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EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  ANTHROPOLOGY 


«  2   5    8 


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SOME  RECENT  BORZOI  BOOKS 

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For  sale  at  all  bookshops 

NEW  YORK:  ALFRED  A.  KNOPF 


EARLY 
CIVILIZATION 

AN     INTRODUCTION    TO    ANTHROPOLOGY 


By 

ALEXANDER    A.    GOLDENWEISER 

Lecturer  on  Anthropology  and  Sociology  at  The  New 
School  for  Social  Research,  New  York;  sometime 
Lecturer   on   Anthropology    in    Columbia    University. 


NEW  YORK        ALFRED  •  A  •  KNOPF        MCMXXIl 


COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY 
ALFRED  A.  KNOPF,  INC. 


Published.  May.   1922 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  by   the  Burr  Printing  House,  New  York.  N.   Y. 

Paper  furnished  by  W.  F.  Eiherington  &  Co.,  New  York.  N.   Y. 

Printed  by  the   Vail-Ballou  Co.,  Binghamton,  N.   Y. 

Bound  by  the  H.  Wolff  Estate,  New  York.  N.  Y. 

MANUFACTURED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES   OF  AMERICA 


Library 

GB 
sol 

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TO  MY  FATHER 


231844 


PREFACE 

THOSE  whose  common  preoccupation  is  with  ideas  are 
wont  to  cherish  the  illusion  of  originality.  But  if  the  his- 
tory of  mental  contents  were  disclosed  we  should  find  that 
most  of  what  we  know  and  think  is  derived  from  others. 

My  more  clearly  discernible  obligations  are  due  to  many. 
It  is  hard  to  express  the  extent  of  my  indebtedness  to  Pro- 
fessor Franz  Boas,  of  Columbia,  whose  glowing  enthusiasm 
and  colossal  knowledge  have  for  many  years  served  as 
guidance  and  inspiration.  Of  the  many  intellectual  com- 
panions of  my  academic  years  I  want  to  single  out  four 
whose  ideas  and  criticisms  have  aided  in  the  formation  and 
shaping  of  my  own  thoughts :  Professors  Robert  H.  Lowie 
and  A.  L.  Kroeber,  of  Berkeley,  Doctor  Edward  Sapir,  of 
the  Victoria  Museum,  Ottawa,  and  Paul  Radin,  of  every- 
where and  nowhere. 

My  gratitude  is  due  to  my  friend  and  colleague,  James 
Harvey  Robinson  and  to  Mrs.  Etta  Stuart  Sohier,  of  Los 
Angeles,  for  reading  and  criticising  the  first  version  of  this 
book.  Their  suggestions  proved  so  valuable  that  the  origi- 
nal plan  of  revising  the  first  draft  was  abandoned  and  a 
new  book  written.  I  want  to  thank  my  old  chum  and  com- 
panion, Samuel  Joseph,  for  reading  the  page  proof. 

I  also  want  to  express  my  obligation  to  my  classes  in 
anthropology  at  Columbia  and  The  New  School  for  Social 
Research,  for  without  the  experience  gained  in  the  prepara- 
tion and  delivery  of  these  lectures,  the  book  could  not  have 
been  written.  My  final  obligation  is  due  to  my  secretary. 
Miss  Anne  V.  Cooper,  who  has  fulfilled  the  enormous  task 
of  typing  and  retyping  the  manuscript,  has  read  the  proofs 
and  made  innumerable  suggestions  as  to  the  form  and  con- 
tent of  the  pages  that  follow. 

Alexander  A.  Goldenweiser 
New  York,  December  i6,  192 1. 

▼a 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

PREFACE  vii 

INTRODUCTION 
MAN  AND   CIVILIZATION 

C    The  Unity  of  Man  3 

^    The  Nature  of  Civilization  15 

(     The  Evolutionary  Theory:   An  Exposition  and  a  Criticism     20 

PART  I 
EARLY  CIVILIZATIONS  ILLUSTRATED 

INTRODUCTION  31 

A  Chapter  I.    The  Eskimo:  A  Case  of  Environmental 

Adjustment  34 

XCh AFTER  11.    The  Tlingit  and   Haida  of   Northwest 

America  53 

^Chapter  III.    The  Iroquois  Matriarchate  70 

Chapter  IV.     Uganda,  An  African  State  83 

Chapter  V.    Central  Australia,  A  Magic  Ridden  Com- 
munity 100 

Chapter  VI.     Reflections  on  Part  I  115 

PART  II 

INDUSTRY  AND  ART,  RELIGION  AND  SOCIETY  OF 

EARLY  MAN 

INTRODUCTION  131 

Chapter  VII.    Economic  Conditions  and  Industry  132 

The  Economic  Adjustment  132 

Applied  Knowledge  138 

Kwakiutl  Industry  138 

ix 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


Chapter  VIII.    Economic    Conditions    and    Industry 

(Continued)  150 

Applied  Knowledge   (Continued)  150 

Hopi  Pigments  150 

Tewa  Ethnobotany  152 

Invention  157 

Chapter  IX.     Art  165 

Chapter  X.     Religion  and  Magic  184 

The  Basic  Factors  of  Religion  184 

The  Guardian  Spirit  in  American  Indian  Religion     184 

Modern  Magic  193 

Mana  or  Impersonal  Supernatural  Power  197 

Chapter  XI.     Religion  and  Magic  (Continued)  202 

Anthropomorphism  and  the  Higher  Gods  202 

Chukchee  Supernaturalism  2Q2 

Bella  Coola  Gods  207 

The  All  Father  2 11 

The  Individual  in  Religion  214 

Medicine-men  Among  the  Chukchee  and  Others  214 
The  Ghost-Dance  Religions  of  the  North  American 

Indians  224 

Supernaturalism  as  a  World  View  231 


Cha 

c 


APTER  XII.     Society  235 

Xhe  Foundations  of   Society  235 

The  Disabilities  of  Women  259 


Chapter  XIII.     Society  (Continued)  265 

The  Foundations  of  Society   (Continued)  265 

Political  Organization  270 

The  Geographical  Distribution  of  Social  Forms  279 

Totemism  282 

Chapter  XIV.     Reflections  on  Part  II  292 
C^    Culture  and  Environment  292 
Diffusion  versus  Independent  Development  in  Early  Civi- 
lization 301 


CONTENTS  xi 

PART  III 
THE  IDEAS  OF  EARLY  MAN 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION 

327 

Chapter  XV.    Theories  of  Early  Mentality 

330 

Spencer's  Theories 

330 

Frazer's  Theories 

337 

Wundt's  Theories 

348 

Chapter  XVI.    Theories  of   Earj.y  Mentality 

(Con- 

tinued ) 

360 

Durkheim's  Theories 

360 

Levy-Bruhl's  Theories 

380 

Freud's  Theories 

389 

Chapter  XVII.     Early  Life  and  Thought 

399 

Bibliographic  Guide 

416 

Index 

425 

ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

1.  Plan  of  Eskimo  Singing-House  37 

2.  Eskimo  Snow  House  4<^ 

3.  Ground  Plan  of  Eskimo  Snow  House  4® 

4.  Cross  Section  of  Eskimo  Snow  House  4' 

5.  Framework  of  Eskimo  Kayak  42 

6.  Eskimo  Kayak  4^ 

7.  Eskimo  Harpoon  43 

8.  9,  10,  II.  Parts  of  Eskimo  Harpoon  43 

12.  Eskimo  Harpoon  in  Action  44 

13.  Eskimo  Bird  Spear  45 

14.  Throwing  Board  45 

15.  Eskimo  Seal-Skin  Floats  and  Hoop  46 

1 6.  Eskimo  Sledge  47 

17.  Eskimo  Dog  in  Harness  48 

1 8.  Eskimo  Wooden  Bow  49 

19.  20.  Eskimo  Antler  Bows  50 

21.  Eskimo  Bow  Drill  5 1 

22.  Kwakiutl  Copper  60 

23.  Diagram  of  Iroquois  Maternal  Family  74 

24.  25.  Diagrams  of  Australian  Marriage  and  Descent       iii,  112 

26.  Kwakiutl  Wood-Bending  140 

27.  Kwakiutl  Pole-Raising  143 

28.  Raising  of  Kwakiutl  Roof  Beam  144 

29.  30,  31,  32.  Kwakiutl  Black  Horn  Spoon  145,  146 
33,  34.  Kwakiutl  Eel  Grass  Bundles                                   148,  149 


xiv  ILLUSTRATIONS 

35.  Beaded  Bagobo  Bag                                 Plate  I  ^^fj^°    178 

36.  Bagobo  Embroidered  Shirt                       Plate  I 

37.  Chillcat  Blanket                                        Plate  II 

38.  39.  Haida  Memorial  Columns                Plate  II 

40.  Haida  Horn  Spoon                                  Plate  II 

41.  Bushongo  Wooden  Cup                           Plate  III 

42.  Benin  Bronze  Casting                              Plate  III 

43.  New  Ireland  Ceremonial  Head-Dress     Plate  IV 

44.  Maori  Door  Lintel                                    Plate  V 

45.  Hawaiian  Feather  Cloak                          Plate  V 

46.  Chiriquian  Chalice                                     Plate  VI 

47.  California  Basket                                       Plate  VII 

48.  California  Basket                                       Plate  VII 

49.  California  Basket                                      Plate  VII 

50.  51.  Australian  Ground  Drawings  Plate  VIII 

PAGE 

52.  Diagram  of  Australian  Marriages  255 

53.  Diagram  of  Totemic  Complex  288 

54.  Map  of  Distribution  of  Clothing  in  America  302 

55.  Map  of  Distribution  of  Garments  in  Africa  303 

56.  Map  of  Distribution  of  Huts  in  Africa  304 

57.  Map  of  Distribution  of  Pottery  in  America  305 

58.  Map  of  Distribution  of  Totemism  in  Africa  308 


INTRODUCTION: 
MAN  AND  CIVILIZATION 


The  Unity  of  Man 

Truth  comes  hard.  The  recognition  of  man's  animal  de- 
scent has  been  a  slow  growth.  When  Darwin  wrote,  over 
half  a  century  ago,  the  evidence  in  favor  of  our  animal  an- 
cestry began  to  be  irresistible.  This  did  not  prevent  a  storm 
of  protest  from  breaking  over  the  head  of  the  great  biologist 
when  in  his  "Origin  of  Species"  he  began  to  prepare  the 
ground  for  the  new  doctrine.  In  "The  Descent  of  Man" 
his  position  became  categorical.  But  it  remained  for  the 
more  uncompromising  and  temperamental  Haeckel  to 
sweep  man's  pedigree  clean  of  all  traces  of  supernaturalism 
and  to  popularize  the  idea  of  man's  natural  evolution  among 
wide  circles  of  the  educated  and  semi-educated  laity. 

Though  similar  to  the  animal  in  many  ways,  man  differs 
markedly  from  even  the  highest  animals,  including  his  closest 
known  relatives,  the  anthropoid  apes.  Erect  gait,  shape  of 
the  cranium,  size  of  the  brain,  position  of  the  head,  develop- 
ment of  the  hand ;  and  with  these,  the  use  of  tools,  articulate 
language,  and  the  gift  of  abstract  thought — such  are  some 
of  the  traits  that  set  off  man  as  an  unique  achievement  of 
biological  evolution,  as  a  super-animal,  immeasurably  re- 
moved from  all  his  precursors. 

In  this  connection,  the  claim  is  sometimes  made  that  some 
races  are  closer  to  the  animal  than  others.  The  prognathic 
jaws  of  the  Negro,  the  prominent  supra-orbital  ridges  of  the 
Australian,  the  dark  skin  color  of  most  primitive  men,  are 
a  few  of  the  features  pointed  to  as  suggestive  of  animal 
traits.  A  somewhat  more  careful  glance  at  the  facts,  how- 
ever, at  once  introduces  distracting  complications.  The 
ape-like  character  of  the  Negro's  jaws  cannot  be  denied,  but 
his  very  jaws  are  fitted  out  with  a  pair  of  lips  that  remove 
him  as  far  from  the  animal  as  the  jaws  bring  him  near  it. 
For  developed  external  lips  are  a  specifically  human  trait, 
and  in  this  particular  the  Negro  represents  "man  physical" 

3 


4  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

more  distinctly  than  any  other  race.  Again,  the  prominent 
supra-orbital  ridges  of  the  Australian  carry  an  unmistakable 
animalistic  suggestion,  and  one  might  be  inclined  to  add  to 
this  another  trait,  namely,  the  great  hairiness  of  the  Aus- 
tralian, if  not  for  the  disturbing  thought  that  in  the  latter 
respect  the  white  man  is  his  worthy  rival,  while  the  other 
races  are  miich  less  hairy.  And  the  same  applies  to  other 
features. 

Is  it  not  clear,  then,  that  the  races,  with  their  complexes 
of  more  or  less  characteristic  traits,  cannot  be  arranged  in 
an  ascending  series  from  the  animal  upward?  In  particular 
instances,  one  race  may  prove  to  be  an  offshoot  of  another, 
the  American  Indians,  for  example,  of  the  Mongolians;  but 
if  all  structural  peculiarities  of  each  racial  stock  are  taken 
into  consideration,  the  races,  all  animal  and  all  human 
though  they  are,  must  be  regarded  as  anatomical  varieties 
specialized  in  different  directions. 

Prompted  by  motives  partly  scientific  in  their  nature  and 
partly  otherwise,  the  advocates  of  white  man's  supremacy 
have  utilized  another  set  of  facts.  In  this  case  the  evidence 
adduced  referred  to  the  size  and  weight  of  the  brain  and  to 
the  macroscopic  as  well  as  microscopic  structure  of  this 
organ. 

White  man's  claim  to  psycho-physical  superiority  receives 
but  little  support  from  a  consideration  of  brain  size  and 
weight.  It  must,  of  course,,  be  admitted  that  the  physical 
evolution  of  the  vertebrates  was  accompanied  by  a  progres- 
sive development  in  the  relative  size  and  weight  of  the  nerv- 
ous system  and,  in  particular,  of  the  central  organ  of  nerv- 
ous control,  the  brain.  In  the  case  of  man,  the  brain  has 
indeed  reached  unprecedented  dimensions.  In  proportion  to 
the  bulk  of  his  body,  man's  brain  is  much  larger  and  heavier 
than  is  that  of  any  other  animal,  including  our  closest  known 
precursor,  the  anthropoid  ape.  And  with  the  increased  bulk 
of  the  brain,  there  went  an  unmistakable  rise  in  intelligence. 

It  is,  however,  by  no  means  easy  to  apply  the  insight  thus 
reached  to  the  human  level  itself.   First  of  all,  bulk  of  body 


INTRODUCTION  S 

again  comes  in  as  a  factor.  All  in  all,  large  people  have 
large  brains.  But  bulk  of  body  is  not  discernibly  related 
to  intelligence.  Hence,  doubt  arises  whether  among  mod- 
ern white  men  any  connection  obtains  between  brain  size 
and  weight  and  intelligence.  The  evidence  gleaned  from 
post  mortem  examinations  of  brains  is  equally  inconclusive. 
In  one  series  of  brains  of  great  men,  for  example,  it  was 
found  that  Turgenev's  brain  was  extraordinarily  large  and 
heavy,  while  that  of  Gambetta,  also  a  man  of  no  mean 
mental  capacity,  scarcely  reached  the  average.  As  the  case 
stands  to  date,  it  seems  not  improbable  that  the  brains  of  a 
selected  group  of  eminent  men  when  compared  with  those 
of  a  non-selected  group  of  men,  would  not  show  any  signifi- 
cant differences  in  size  and  weight. 

It  follows  from  this  that  any  inferences  in  regard  to  in- 
telligence based  on  comparisons  of  brain  size  and  weight 
must  be  drawn  with  great  caution.  But  are  there  such  dif- 
ferences between  the  white  race  and  other  races  and,  if  so, 
what  is  their  nature?  Students  of  the  subject  tell  us  that 
if  a  sufficiently  large  set  of  white  man's  brains  were  com- 
pared with  a  similar  one  representing  another  race,  the  vast 
majority  of  the  brains  of  the  two  sets  would  be  strictly  com- 
parable in  point  of  size  and  weight.  The  only  difference 
would  be  this :  a  small  number  of  white  man's  brains  would 
be  heavier  and  larger  than  any  brains  in  the  other  set,  while 
a  small  number  of  brains  in  that  set  would  be  smaller  and 
lighter  than  any  brains  of  white  man. 

Would  it  not  be  hazardous,  then,  to  base  any  conclu- 
sions as  to  racial  capacity  on  differences  that  are  so  tenuous, 
particularly  in  view  of  the  highly  dubious  relation  between 
brain  size  and  weight  and  intelligence? 

With  the  brain  structure  the  case  stands  somewhat  dif- 
ferently. In  addition  to  the  data  on  white  man's  brains, 
we  have  the  results  of  Professor  Bean's  painstaking  in- 
vestigations of  a  large  set  of  Negro  brains.  These  investi- 
gations have  disclosed  the  presence  of  distinctive  structural 
peculiarities  which  must  be  recognized  as  racial.    There  is, 


6  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

however,  no  indication  that  the  revealed  differences  between 
white  and  Negro  brains  stand  for  potential  intellectual  in- 
feriority on  the  part  of  the  Negro.  Those  who  desire  to 
see  such  inferiority  demonstrated  will  naturally  tend  to  in- 
terpret Professor  Bean's  results  in  this  sense;  the  sober 
student,  on  the  other  hand,  will  reserve  judgment,^  pending 
further  research,  which,  he  may  well  expect,  will  disclose 
peculiarities  of  racial  psychology  correlated  with  the  ob- 
served differences  in  brain  structure.  In  what  direction 
these  peculiarities  will  lie  cannot  at  this  time  be  foreseen. 

The  foregoing  examination  of  the  biological  and  neuro- 
logical evidence  leaves  us  very  near  where  we  were  at  the 
beginning  of  our  inquiry.  No  proof  has  been  forthcom- 
ing of  the  inferiority  of  the  other  racial  stocks  to  the 
white. 

But  what  is  the  tenor  of  the  direct  evidence  of  psy- 
chology? Here  we  are  confronted  by  the  time  honored 
allegation  that  the  senses  of  the  "savage,"  his  vision,  hear- 
ing, smell,  are  more  acute  than  are  those  of  white  man,  and 
that  this  very  superiority  bespeaks  his  closeness  to  the 
animal.  In  the  power  of  abstract  thought,  on  the  other 
hand,  in  the  capacity  for  sustained  labor,  the  ability  to  en- 
dure pain,  he  is  supposed  to  lag  far  behind  the  standards 
established  by  white  man. 

Old  travelers'  accounts  abound  in  references  to  the  amaz- 
ing sense  acuity  of  the  "savage."  Scarcely  audible  sounds, 
we  are  told,  are  perceived  by  him  and  interpreted  as  a  warn- 
ing of  danger.  He  observes  the  tracks  of  animals  and  of 
man  under  conditions  that  seem  impossible  to  his  white 
companions.  From  the  appearance  of  a  bush  in  the  thicket 
or  the  grass  under  foot,  he  infers  what  kind  of  animals  have 


^That  apart  from  interpretation,  Professor  Bean's  concrete  results  are  not 
above  criticism  may  be  gathered  from  the  constructive  and  critical  essay  by 
F.  P.  Mall  ("On  Several  Anatomical  Characters  of  the  Human  Brain,  etc.," 
American  Journal  of  Anatomy.  Vol.  IX,  pp.  1-32)-  See  particularly  p.  11, 
where  Mall  compares  his  results  with  those  of  Bean,  derived  frona  the 
measurement  of  the  same  set  of  brains. 


INTRODUCTION  7 

been  there  and  may  even  roughly  guess  their  number.  He 
possesses  a  complete  inventory  of  the  sounds  produced  by 
the  beasts  and  birds  of  his  habitat  and  is  able,  moreover, 
to  reproduce  many  of  them  with  striking  fidelity. 

Accounts  such  as  these  were  eagerly  sought  by  the  ad- 
vocates of  white  man's  superiority.  The  "savage,"  it  was 
held,  is  like  the  animal  in  the  sharpness  of  his  senses.  White 
man,  with  his  higher  intelligence,  has  passed  beyond  that 
stage.  He  is  no  longer  in  need  of  such  extraordinary  keen- 
ness of  the  lower  faculties,  for  nose,  eye  or  ear  could  never 
serve  his  vital  needs  as  effectively  as  does  his  mind,  with  its 
superior  acumen  and  resourcefulness. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  these  interpretations,  the  facts 
themselves,  when  examined  with  an  open  mind,  do  not  imply 
any  inborn  superiority  of  the  "savage"  in  sense  perception. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  aboriginal  man  lives  in  close 
and  constant  contact  with  nature,  its  forces  and  its  dangers. 
y^His  natural  economy  requires  a  very  delicate  adjustment  to 
the  peculiarities  of  his  environment. )  If  he  is  to  live,  he 
must  learn  to  use  his  senses  as  well  or  nearly  as  well  as  do 
the  animals  and  birds  of  his  wild  habitat.  All  this,  however, 
is  merely  a  matter  of  habituation.  If  transferred  to  an  un- 
accustomed environment,  the  master  of  the  woods  and  the 
prairie  would  promptly  lose  his  superior  sense  capacity.  A 
Bushman  or  Australian,  suddenly  removed  to  Broadway, 
would  succumb  to  the  natural  dangers  of  his  new  milieu 
even  before  he  had  realized  the  inadequacy  of  his  equip- 
ment for  dealing  with  the  changed  situation.  White  man, 
on  the  other  hand,  has  more  than  once  shown  his  ability  to 
develop  the  very  qualities  of  the  senses  which  are  so  neces- 
sary in  a  primitive  setting.  The  frontiersman  and  the 
settler,  the  trapper  and  the  agent  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company,  excelled  in  the  very  characteristics  that  were 
thought  to  constitute  an  innate  peculiarity  of  the  American 
Indian,  and  any  of  these,  including  the  Indian,  would  un- 
doubtedly meet  their  peer  if  not  their  master  in  psychic 


8.  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

equipment  in  a  member  of  the  mounted  police  of  the  Cana- 
dian Northwest. 

The  very  high  degree  to  which  the  sharpness  of  the  senses 
can  be  developed  by  constant  application  is  attested  by  the 
experiences  of  modern  civilization.  Our  experts  on  cloth 
and  tapestry,  on  tea,  tobacco  and  wine,  achieve  after  some 
years  of  practise,  a  power  of  delicate  sense  discrimination 
which  to  the  uninitiated  seems  wellnigh  incredible.  Equally 
remarkable  is  the  high  sensitiveness  of  touch  acquired  by 
the  professional  typist,  and  the  even  greater  delicacy  of  that 
sense  as  well  as  of  the  sense  of  hearing  possessed  by  the 
accomplished  violinist  and  cellist. 

The  recent  development  of  experimental  psychology  has 
provided  a  tool  by  means  of  which  the  psychological  equip- 
ment of  the  "savage"  could  be  tested  with  greater  exacti- 
tude. In  a  number  of  instances  opportunity  presented  itself 
to  apply  the  procedure  of  the  experimental  laboratory  to 
the  native  populations.  Doctor  W.  H.  R.  Rivers,  as  a 
member  of  the  Cambridge  Anthropological  Expedition  to 
Torres  Straits,  subjected  the  natives  of  these  islands  to  an 
extended  series  of  psychological  tests ;  Mr.  Richard  Thurn- 
wald  applied  somewhat  similar  methods  in  the  course  of  his 
expedition  to  the  Solomon  Islands;  while  Professor  R.  S. 
Woodworth,  of  Columbia  University,  was  fortunate  enough 
to  find  himself  in  a  position  to  experiment  with  representa- 
tives of  a  variety  of  primitive  tribes  gathered  for  purposes 
of  exhibition  at  the  St.  Louis  Fair.  The  verdict  of  the 
above  investigations  Is  unanimous  and  unmistakable:  the 
senses  and  the  elementary  mental  reactions  of  aboriginal 
man  are  strictly  comparable  to  those  of  his  white  brethren. 
No  disparity  whatsoever  has  appeared  that  would  suggest 
congenital  racial  differences  of  superiority  or  inferiority  of 
sense  equipment,  although  some  interesting  facts  that  could 
not  have  been  foreseen  have  come  to  light,  such  as  the  pre- 
vailing yellow-blue  color  blindness  of  some  Melanesian 
natives,   which   contrasts  with   the   red-green   color  blind- 


INTRODUCTION  9 

ness  oi  white  man,  and  may  prove  to  be  a  sub-racial 
characteristic. 

It  is  easy  to  show  that  the  alleged  inferiority  of  early 
man  in  the  higher  mental  functions  is  also  based  on  deficient 
knowledge  and  an  erroneous  point  of  view.  Followers  of 
Herbert  Spencer  are  wont  to  say  that  the  "savage"  is  lacking 
in  capacity  for  sustained  labor.  But  are  the  reports  from 
which  such  generalizations  are  derived  based  on  a  fair 
view  of  the  primitive  laborer?  Certainly  not.  The  evi- 
dence gleaned  from  plantation  conditions,  for  example, 
cannot  be  expected  to  throw  much  light  on  the  natural 
capabilities  of  the  native  worker.  Recent  studies,  such  as 
those  of  J.  A.  Hobson,  Carleton  Parker  and  Miss  Marot, 
have  done  much  to  popularize  the  information  we  now 
possess  about  the  effects  of  the  worker's  psychic  state  on  his 
efficiency.  The  striking  results  of  the  reputed  "Saturday- 
ings"  and  "Sundayings"  of  Soviet  Russia  bring,  perhaps, 
the  most  recent  evidence  of  what  labor  can  do  under  stimu- 
lating psychological  conditions.  And  the  reverse  is,  of 
course,  equally  patent.  If^  the  experiences  of  housewives 
with  their  domestic  help  were  available  as  comparative  data, 
would  not  the  standing  of  white  men  and  women  as 
exemplars  of  efficiency  in  sustained  labor  receive  a  decided 
setback? 

Those  who  have  had  the  opportunity  of  studying  native 
man  in  his  normal  setting  were  often  impressed  by  the 
apparently  limitless  care  and  assiduity  with  which  he  de- 
voted himself  to  those  tasks  of  industry  or  art  which  to  him 
were  of  prime  concern  and  emotional  value.  Primitive  in- 
dustries, in  particular,  often  call  for  intense  and  persistent 
application  extending  over  days  and  weeks,  and  these  re- 
quirements are  faithfully  fulfilled  by  the  natives  without 
visible  signs  of  distress  or  any  necessity  for  social 
compulsion. 

Similarly  ill-founded  is  the  alleged  inability  of  primitive 
man  to  endure  pain.  The  statements  responsible  for  this 
judgment  were,  of  course,  based  on  those  many  instances 


lo  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

where,  as  slave,  forced  laborer,  or  hired  soldier,  primitive 
man  had  displayed  but  slight  disposition  to  withstand  pain 
or  suffering.  Here  again,  familiarity  with  native  life  cannot 
but  dispel  the  illusion  that  any  congenital  disability  is  in- 
volved. The  tortures  of  the  Sun  Dance  are  stoically  en- 
dured by  the  Indian  youths  of  the  American  Plains.  The 
native  boys  of  the  Australian  bush  show  equal  stolidity  dur- 
ing the  protracted  initiation  ceremonies,  in  the  course  of 
which  the  old  men  subject  them  to  trying  and  often  painful 
manipulations.  Maori  tatooing  provides  another  example. 
In  the  case  of  a  chief  this  process  occupies  weeks  and 
months,  and  in  the  course  of  the  daily  seances,  the  subject 
must  endure  almost  continuous  pain.  The  arduous  task  of 
the  artist  presents  equally  striking  evidence  of  native 
capacity  for  sustained  labor.  A  rite  of  initiation  wide- 
spread in  Africa  and  Australia  involves  the  knocking  out 
of  teeth  or  the  filing  of  teeth  into  triangular  shape.  The 
common  requirement  thereby  is  that  the  excruciating  pain 
must  be  borne  without  whimpering.  If  records  of  such  per- 
formances were  collected  and  compared  with  others  that 
might  be  supplied  by  our  dentists,  would  the  results  be  likely 
to  support  the  belief  that  aboriginal  man  is  our  inferior  in 
his  capacity  for  withstanding  pain? 

Among  the  higher  functions  of  the  mind  with  which  early 
man  was  thought  to  be  but  inadequately  endowed,  mathe- 
matics and  language  have  figured  most  prominently.  It  is 
quite  true,  as  alleged,  that  many  tribes — those  of  central 
Australia,  for  example — are  unable  to  count  further  than 
four  or  five.  But  are  they  really  unable  to  do  so  be- 
cause of  psychic  incapacity?  Nothing  could  be  further  from 
the  truth  than  this  inference,  and  ethnologists  have  repeat- 
edly made  the  experience  that  the  learning  of  our  numerical 
system  with  its  corollaries  presents  but  little  difficulty  to  the 
average  native.  Whenever  such  deficient  numerical  systems 
occur,  they  merely  represent  a  peculiarity  of  the  civiliza- 
tional  setting,  and  not  at  all  a  psychical  disability.  Among 
tribes  where  no  medium  of  exchange  has  developed,  where 


INTRODUCTION  ii 

exact  measurement  is  unknown  and  Ideas  of  property  re- 
main relatively  undefined,  there  is  little  need  for  numerical 
expression  and  computation,  and  progress  in  this  domain 
is  likely  to  be  slow. 

The  case  of  language  is  equally  instructive.  That 
primitive  languages  consist  of  a  scant  collection  of  words, 
that  the  very  phonetic  elements  of  these  languages  tend  to 
fluctuate,  that  they  are  practically  devoid  of  grammatical 
structure — all  such  generalizations  have  long  since  been 
relegated  to  the  rubbish  heap  of  discarded  dogmas.  In  the 
course  of  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  the  languages  of 
the  American  Indians  have  been  studied  in  great  detail, 
while  only  less  systematic  work  has  been  accomplished  in 
other  regions,  especially  in  Africa.  As  a  result  of  these  re- 
searches, our  ideas  of  early  languages  have  been  thoroughly 
revolutionized.  It  is  now  known  that  the  vocabularies  of 
more  than  one  Indian  tongue  comprise  several  thousands 
of  words  and  possess  phonetic  characteristics  comparable 
in  fixity  and  complexity  to  those  of  the  ancient  and  modern 
languages.  But  most  important  of  all  are  the  grammars 
of  these  native  tongues,  the  reconstruction  of  which  we  owe 
to  the  ingenuity  and  untiring  labors  of  the  ethnological 
linguists.  For  these  grammars  are  always  definite  and  often 
elaborate,  and  while  displaying  certain  characteristics  com- 
mon to  all  grammars,  also  possess  many  individualized 
peculiarities.^ 

It  is,  of  course,  true  that  the  linguistic  processes  under- 
lying grammatical  structure  are  wholly  unconscious.  They 
are,  nevertheless,  psychological;  and  the  evidence  of  classi- 
fication, generalization  and  abstraction  involved  in  the  cate- 
gories of  these  native  grammars  may  not  be  disregarded  in 
any  attempt  to  understand  the  workings  of  primitive  men- 
tality. When  the  Kwakiutl  distinguishes  by  an  instrumental 
suffix  all  verbs  designating  an  action  performed  by  a  sharp 


^For  a  highly  interesting  as  well  as  original  presentation  of  linguistic 
facts,  in  which  full  justice  is  done  to  primitive  languages,  see  Edward 
Sapir's  recent  book,  "Language"  (Harcourt,  Brace  and  Company). 


12  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

object,  the  category  Involved  Implies  generalization  and 
abstraction,  and  this  particular  language  has  a  whole  series 
of  such  instrumental  suffixes.  When  the  Algonquin  lan- 
guages classify  all  nouns  into  animate  and  inanimate,  a 
generalization  is  once  more  implied.  The  very  existence 
of  categories  in  grammar — and  what  is  grammar  but  a  set 
of  categories? — is  evidence  of  classification,  generalization 
and  abstraction. 

That  the  conditions  of  aboriginal  life  do  not  foster  a  per- 
sistent occupation  with  ideas  is  true  enough,  but  we  shall 
have  more  than  one  occasion  to  show  that  our  own  wonted 
predilection  for  abstract  thought  has  been  greatly  over- 
estimated. 

Enough  has  been  said  to  indicate  that  the  evidence  of 
biology,  neurology  and  psychology  fails  to  supply  any  data 
on  the  basis  of  which  could  be  inferred  either  a  primitive 
superiority  in  sense  development  or  an  inferiority  of  early 
man  in  his  capacity  for  abstract  thought  and  in  other 
achievements  supposedly  peculiar  to  white  man. 

To  all  this  the  objection  may  well  be  urged  that  we  do 
not  judge  of  civilization  indirectly,  through  the  biological 
or  psychological  traits  of  the  individuals  who  represent  it. 
We  judge  of  civilization  directly,  on  its  own  merits.  Now, 
if  primitive,  ancient  and  modern  societies  are  juxtaposed, 
is  it  not  patent  that  the  achievements  of  the  modern  civili- 
zation of  white  man,  surpass  beyond  comparison  all  that  has 
been  attained  before  in  history  or  pre-history?  How  can 
this  superlative  excellence  be  explained  except  through  some 
advantage  in  congenital  capacity? 

Unanswerable  though  it  may  seem  at  first  glance,  this 
criticism  greatly  overstates  the  case.  For  is  the  superiority 
of  our  own  civilization  really  so  obvious  and  demonstrable 
all  along  the  line?  That  this  is  not  so  is  readily  revealed 
by  a  more  careful  survey.  It  is  undeniable  that  in  the  mass 
of  accumulated  knowledge  we  loom  far  above  all  our  pred- 
ecessors. The  same  is  true  of  the  application  of  knowledge 
to  abstract  thought:  the  domain  of  thought  based  on  con- 


INTRODUCTION  13 

Crete  and  verifiable  data  is  vaster  today  than  ever  before, 
and  in  many  instances  this  experientially-controlled  thought 
process  is  both  highly  elaborate  and  equally  exact.  This 
applies  to  the  abstract  domains  of  science,  philosophy  and 
social  and  political  ideology  in  some  of  its  aspects.  The 
high  degree  to  which  knowledge  is  utilized  in  practical 
activity  is  equally  peculiar  to  present  day  civilization.  It 
may  well  be,  in  fact,  that  this  aspect  is  more  character- 
istically modern  than  any  of  the  others.  The  application 
of  biology  to  medicine  and  bacteriology,  of  chemistry  to 
industry,  agriculture  and  sanitation,  of  psychology  to  educa- 
tion, criminology  and  business,  of  the  theory  of  probability 
and  other  branches  of  mathematics  to  life  insurance  and 
statistics,  are  distinctively  modern  phenomena  incalculable 
in  their  bearings  on  civilization. 

So  far,  then,  white  man's  cultural  achievement  stands 
supreme,  lending  at  least  a  prima  facie  justification  to  his 
claim  of  innate  superiority.  It  must,  however,  be  remem- 
bered, that  in  his  command  of  knowledge  with  Its  theoretical 
and  practical  adjuncts,  modern  white  man  is  superior  not 
only  to  the  Australian  bushman,  to  the  Indian  of  America, 
to  the  African  Negro  or  to  the  Mongol  of  Eastern  Asia; 
but  in  all  of  these  respects  he  also  towers  above  the  ancient 
Babylonians  and  Egyptians,  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans, 
nay  even  over  our  most  immediate  precursors  in  the  history 
of  Europe.  Go  back  five  hundred  years  and  nothing  is  left 
of  modern  civilization;  go  back  two  hundred  years  and  some 
of  its  most  distinctive  traits  are  still  absent;  go  back  one 
hundred  years  and  you  find  a  civilization  lacking  in  most 
of  the  things  we  feel  to  be  of  the  essence  of  our  own  cultural 
life.  The  aeroplane  and  the  wireless,  the  telephone  and 
the  telegraph,  and  the  very  use  of  electricity;  railroads  and 
steamships  and  automobiles;  scientific  agriculture  and  in- 
dustrial chemistry;  the  doctrine  of  evolution  and  the  very 
natural  sciences  with  their  highly  precise  measurements  and 
methods;  trusts  and  trade  unions  and  the  very  essentials 
of  machine  production  and  of  capitalism;  all  of  this,  his- 


14  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

torically  speaking,  dates  of  yesterday.  And  further:  do 
these  represent  typical  developments  that  have  taken  place 
again  and  again  in  civilizations  born  of  white  man?  Far 
from  it.  This  complex  of  achievements  must  rather  be  re- 
garded as  an  unique  excrescence  of  the  historic  process,  as 
a  singular  historic  twist  that  has  favored  our  civilization. 
Who  can  tell  whether  a  similar  precipitation  in  cultural 
growth  might  not  have  occurred  in  the  case  of  another 
people  and  race,  or  may  not  occur  in  the  future ;  or  whether, 
if  the  historic  process  were  to  begin  anew,  white  man  would 
prove  equally  successful  ? 

But  the  case  does  not  stand  as  favorably  for  white  man 
as  would  appear  from  this  presentation.  Knowledge, 
theoretical  and  applied,  is  not  the  whole  of  civilization. 
Now,  in  art,  religion  and  ethics,  or  in  social  and  political 
organization,  our  superiority  over  the  peoples  of  antiquity, 
or  even  over  those  of  pre-history,  is  not  by  any  means  as 
definite  nor  as  indisputable.  While  a  detailed  consideration 
of  the  comparative  aspect  of  the  problem  falls  outside 
the  scope  of  this  book,  it  will  be  well  to  keep  in  mind 
that  our  superiority  in  any  of  these  respects  can  only  be 
established  in  the  light  of  special  and  highly  subjective 
standards.  The  problem,  in  other  words,  passes  from  the 
domain  of  measurement  to  that  of  value  from  that  of  ob- 
jectivity to  that  of  taste  and  opinion. 

Enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  the  view  still  gener- 
ally held  of  the  relation  between  race  and  civilization  may 
well  be  reversed.  According  to  the  prevailing  view,  man 
is  many  and  civilization  one,  meaning  by  this  that  the  races 
differ  significantly  in  potential  ability  and  that  only  one, 
the  white  race,  could  have  and  actually  has  achieved  civiliza- 
tion. The  reverse  view,  forced  upon  the  ethnologist  and 
the  historian  by  a  more  critical  and  open-minded  survey 
of  the  facts,  reads  thus:  man  is  one,  civilizations  are  many, 
meaning  by  this  that  the  races  do  not  differ  significantly  in 
psychological  endowment,  that  the  variety  of  possible  civili- 
zations Is  great  and  of  actual  ones,  considerable,  and  that 


INTRODUCTION  15 

many  civilizations  other  than  ours  have  achieved  things  of 
genuine  and  unique  worth. 

With  this  as  a  background,  we  may  proceed  to  examine 
somewhat  more  closely  what  it  is  that  is  called  civilization. 
To  this  problem  the  next  section  is  devoted. 


The  Nature  of  Civilization 

What,  then,  is  civilization? 

Our  attitudes,  beliefs  and  ideas,  our  judgments  and 
values;  our  institutions,  political  and  legal,  religious  and 
economic;  our  ethical  code  and  our  code  of  etiquette;  our 
books  and  machines,  our  sciences,  philosophies  and  philoso- 
phers— all  of  these  and  many  other  things  and  beings,  both 
in  themselves  and  in  their  multiform  inter-relations,  con- 
stitute our  civilization.  In  many  of  these  things  it  differs 
from  the  civilizations  of  antiquity  and  from  those  other 
remoter  ones  of  pre-history. 

It  is  characteristic  of  civilization  that  it  persists;  a  large 
part  of  it,  most  of  it,  in  fact,  is  passed  on  from  generation 
to  generation.  But  also,  it  changes:  at  no  two  points  in 
time  is  it  quite  the  same,  and  the  differences  in  the  civiliza- 
tion of  two  succeeding  generations  are  often  perceptible 
and  at  times  striking. 

It  takes  but  little  thought  to  realize  that  the  changes  in 
civilization  are  each  and  all  due  to  the  emergence  of  new 
things,  inventions,  ideas,  which,  in  the  last  analysis,  are 
always  emanations  of  the  minds  of  individuals.  Whether 
the  change  is  in  a  mechanical  device,  or  a  detail  of  social 
organization;  in  a  new  scientific  idea  or  ethical  value;  in 
a  method  of  simplifying  or  improving  economic  production 
or  distribution;  in  a  new  play,  or  a  novel  form  of  stage  art; 
in  an  article  of  use,  comfort  or  luxury,  a  new  word,  a 
witticism,  a  proverb — all  of  these  things  originate  in  in- 
dividual minds  and  there  is  no  other  place  where  they  can 
originate.     Nor  is  this  generalization  in  the  least  affected 


i6  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

by  whatever  view  one  may  hold  as  to  the  relative  impor- 
tance of  the  individual  and  society  in  the  production  of 
civilization.  Even  though  the  individual  were  wholly  de- 
termined by  the  social  setting,  all  of  the  civilizational 
changes  just  referred  to,  including  those  in  material  things, 
would  remain  psychological  in  their  derivation  and,  as  such, 
they  could  only  originate  in  individual  minds,  for  there  are 
no  other  minds  but  those  of  individuals.  Thus  the  whole 
of  civilization,  if  followed  backward  step  by  step,  would 
ultimately  be  found  resolvable,  without  residue,  into  bits 
of  ideas  in  the  minds  of  individuals. 

But  civilization  also  persists  and  accumulates.  Some  ele- 
ments carry  over  from  generation  to  generation  through 
the  sheer  objective  continuity  of  material  existence.  Most 
of  the  paraphernalia  of  our  complicated  mechanical  equip- 
ment, the  roads,  vehicles  and  houses,  the  books  in  our 
libraries,  the  specimens  in  the  museums,  persist  in  as  crass 
and  material  a  way  as  does  man's  physical  environment. 
The  institutions,  those  crystallized  depositories  of  attitudes, 
ideas  and  actions,  persist  in  a  less  objectified  form,  for  they 
are  only  in  part  represented  by  material  or  mechanical  ar- 
rangements, such  as  fixed  organizations,  recorded  codes  and 
archives,  In  whose  prolonged  existence  the  change  of  gener- 
ations appears  as  but  an  Incident.  But  there  is  still  another 
and  more  Important  mechanism  through  which  civilization 
is  passed  on  from  fathers  to  sons.  This  mechanism, 
more  dynamic  and  plastic  than  the  others,  is  education. 
Through  education,  in  the  home,  at  school,  in  society,  the 
past  molds  the  present  and  sets  a  pattern  for  the  future. 

Here  It  Is  Important  to  remember  that  civilization,  psy- 
chological and  individual  though  it  may  be  when  resolved 
into  a  chronological  series,  is  not  at  all  the  outgrowth  of 
the  minds  of  Individuals  of  any  particular  generation.  On 
the  contrary.  It  comes  to  them  from  without,  it  molds 
them,  it  forces  itself  upon  them  through  the  material  per- 
sistence of  its  objective  elements,  through  its  codes  and 
institutions,  and  through  the  deep  cutting  tools  of  education. 


INTRODUCTION  n 

A  large  part  of  the  educational  process  strikes  the  mind  of 
the  individual  during  the  years  of  highest  receptivity  and 
plasticity.  Without  accepting  the  extreme  verdict  of  psy- 
choanalysis on  this  matter,  it  suffices  to  realize  that  what 
is  deposited  in  the  mind  during  the  early  years  of  child-  ^ 
hood,  persists  throughout  later  life  with  often  but  slight  ' 
modification. 

Not  only  is  man  at  the  mercy  of  civilization,  but  he  gen- 
erally remains  either  partly  or  wholly  unaware  of  what  he 
is  thus  forced  to  accept. 

While  we  regard  the  language  in  which  we  think  and 
express  our  ideas  as  very  particularly  our  own,  the  gram- 
matical structure  of  that  language  rests  in  the  unconscious. 
The  complicated  system  of  classifications,  categories  and 
nuances,  which  make  up  grammar,  are  used  by  the  individual 
without  the  least  realization  of  their  presence.  In  primitive 
communities,  where  writing  is  unknown,  individuals  are 
totally  unaware  of  the  very  existence  of  a  grammar  under- 
lying the  language  they  daily  use.  -  The  situation  is  not  so 
very  different  today,  for  the  fact  that  grammar  is  taught 
does  not  prevent  us  from  absorbing  the  structure  of  our 
mother  tongue  without  the  least  reference  to  whatever  con- 
scious knowledge  we  may  acquire  of  its  grammatical  prin- 
ciples. Only  at  the  cost  of  a  deliberate  and  persistent  effort 
can  the  mind  be  brought  to  deal  analytically  with  the 
elements  of  the  grammar  it  constantly  employs  in  thinking. 

The  same  is  almost  equally  true  of  art,  particularly  of 
music.  The  theoretical  structure  of  our  musical  system  is 
known  to  but  few.  Many  of  those  who  appreciate  music 
or  even  produce  it  by  singing  or  playing  an  instrument, 
may  remain  almost  wholly  unconscious  of  the  basic  prin- 
ciples with  which  they  operate.  And,  again,  in  primitive 
society  or  among  the  peasant  populations  of  Europe  or 
among  the  singing  and  banjo-playing  masses  of  our  cities, 
the  theoretical  foundations  of  the  music  they  enjoy,  use  and 
abuse,  remain  altogether  unknown.  What  applies  so  dras- 
tically to  language  and  art  is  only  to  a  slighter  degree  true 


x8  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

of  other  elements  of  civilization.  RuLes  of  etiquette,  re- 
ligious dogma,  political  convictions,  and  to  a  great  extent 
the  specialized  outlook  of  a  social  or  professional  class, 
become  fixed  in  the  mind  of  the  individual  before  he  is 
quite  aware  of  what  is  taking  place. 

\  Then,  when  self-consciousness  comes — and  to  many  of 
never  comes — we  discover  ourselves  fitted  out  with  all 
the  paraphernalia  of  a  world  view,  with  a  code  of  morality, 
behavior  and  belief.  Then  we  may  indulge  in  a  deliberate 
effort  to  change  these  ideas  and  attitudes  or,  more  com- 
monly, to  provide  for  them  an  exculpating  background  of 
explanations  and  justifications.  Many  of  our  theories  of  edu- 
cation, of  criminology  or  of  etiquette,  for  example,  consist 
of  nothing  but  such  accumulated  afterthoughts,  invented 
with  greater  or  less  ingenuity  to  render  our  unconsciously 
acquired  habits,  attitudes  and  convictions,  more  congenial 
to  ourselves  and  better  prepared  to  hold  their  own  in  the 
face  of  criticism  or  attack. 

It  appears  from  the  above  that  the  individual  and  the 
group  have  their  share  both  in  the  persistence  and  the 
originality  of  civilization.  The  individual  is  responsible 
for  the  creation  of  the  new,  society  provides  it  with  a  back- 
ground and  the  occasion.  For  the  new  is  never  more  than 
a  slight  ripple  on  the  deep  foundation  of  the  old  and  estab- 
lished. The  conservative  dead-weight  of  society  opposes 
the  new,  but  should  it  appear,  molds  it  to  its  pattern  by 
prescribing  the  direction  it  is  to  take  as  well  as  by  limiting 
the  range  of  its  departure  from  the  old.  This  is  most 
clearly  seen  in  inventions  and  artistic  creations.  The  talent 
of  an  Edison  is  a  congenital  gift.  Even  though  born  in 
early  pre-history,  he  would  have  been  Edison,  but  could  not 
have  invented  the  incandescent  lamp.  Instead,  he  might 
have  originated  one  of  the  early  methods  of  making  fire. 
Raphael,  if  brought  to  life  in  a  Bushman  family,  would  have 
drawn  curiously  realistic  cattle  on  the  walls  of  caves  as  well 
as  steatopygous  Bushman  women.  Had  Beethoven  been  a 
.hinaman,  he  would  have  composed  some  of  those  delight- 


INTRODUCTION  19 

fully  cacophonous  melodies  which  the  seeker  for  the  quaint 
and  unusual  pretends  to  enjoy  in  Chinatown. 

Stability  and  persistence,  on  the  other  hand,  are  mainly 
brought  about  by  social  factors.  Apart  from  the  historic 
persistence  of  the  material  substratum  of  the  group,  the 
institutional  norms  and  the  directing  pressure  of  public 
opinion,  custom  and  law,  are  functions  of  the  social  setting. 
But  these  factors  alone  would  be  powerless  to  achieve 
stability  in  the  absence  of  the  inertia  of  the  individual  mind, 
with  its  readiness  to  adhere  to  once  established  conceptions 
and  its  predilection  for  the  beaten  path. 

A  civilization  in  its  unique  individuality  is  fascinating  to 
behold  and  to  study.  This  charm  of  specific  cultural  values 
eluded  the  eye  of  the  evolutionist  of  a  generation  ago,  whose 
interest  centered  in  the  task  of  reconstructing  the  ante- 
cedents of  modern  society.  To  him  the  civilizations  of 
antiquity  and  to  an  ever  greater  degree  those  of  pre-history, 
were  but  stepping-stones  on  the  road  to  modern  civilization, 
but  stages  in  an  ascending  series  of  development.  The 
modern  student,  whether  historian,  sociologist  or  anthrop- 
ologist, having  freed  himself  from  the  dogmatic  preconcep- 
tions of  the  evolutionary  approach,  is  seized  with  renewed 
zeal  toward  a  better  understanding  and  deeper  penetration 
of  the  total  range  of  human  civilization.  But  the  data  for 
his  study  are  limited.  Beneath  manifold  differences,  a  level 
of  great  uniformity  underlies  all  modern  civilizations.  A 
comparison  of  the  latter  with  those  of  antiquity  contributes 
a  wider  range  of  contrasting  colors,  but  the  number  of  such 
ancient  civilizations  is  small,  and  on  analysis,  they  also  dis- 
play many  common  elements  with  our  own.  Pre-history,  as 
it  stands  revealed  by  the  researches  of  the  ethnographer, 
belongs  to  a  totally  different  plane.  Each  one  of  its  civili- 
zations is  individual  and  unique,  is  carried  by  relatively  few 
individuals  and  covers  but  slight  territory.  Of  such  highly 
individualized  civilizations,  pre-history  reveals  a  great 
variety,  even  though  the  list  be  made  to  include  only  those 
tribes  whose  cultural  possessions  have  been  studied  with 


20  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

care  and  in  detail.  Primitive  North  America  alone  com- 
prises a  greater  number  of  well  authenticated  civilizations 
than  can  be  found  in  the  whole  range  of  modern  and  ancient 
history. 

The  early  world,  then,  presents  an  ideal  field  for  the 
study  of  the  achievements  of  man,  for  the  extension  of  our 
understanding  of  cultural  problems  and  our  appreciation  of 
the  great  range  of  civilization. 


The  Evolutionary  Theory:    An  Exposition  and  a 

Criticism. 

Evolution  is  an  old  idea.  If  one  comes  to  think  of  the 
past  at  all — and  most  men  do — there  is  a  limited  number 
of  ways  in  which  one  can  think  of  it.  Persistence  is  one 
way  in  which  the  past  can  be  visualized :  things  always  were 
as  they  are  today,  history  is  a  self-reproducing  continuum. 
The  Eskimo  affect  this  attitude  toward  their  cultural  past: 
on  the  evidence  of  their  mythology,  their  customs,  beliefs 
and  ideas  always  were  what  they  are  today.  Another  way 
to  interpret  the  past  is  through  creation :  things  have  come 
to  be  as  they  are  through  the  will  of  a  supernatural  being. 
Before  that,  if  they  existed  at  all,  they  were  ideas  in  the 
mind  of  their  creator.  Origins  by  creation  are  not  peculiar 
to  the  recent  historic  past;  they  are  common  in  primitive 
society.  The  supernatural  culture  heroes  of  North  America 
are  the  creators  or  the  introducers  of  the  arts  and  crafts. 
The  All  Father  of  Australian  mythology  is  held  responsible 
for  the  creation  of  the  world,  with  the  sole  exception  of 
man,  who  is  supposed  to  have  existed  from  the  beginning  in 
the  form  of  half-finished  creatures.  These  creatures  were 
completed  and  transformed  into  men  by  two  supernatural 
beings  who  traveled  about  the  earth.  The  idea  of  creation 
is  also  known  to  the  authors  of  Polynesian  mythologies. 
Another  way  of  accounting  for  the  past  is  through  trans- 
formation, some  sort  of  evolution  of  things  from  one  state 


INTRODUCTION  21 

Into  another.  This  idea  is  deeply  rooted  in  the  mythologies 
of  Polynesia,  and  in  more  recent  times  it  was  congenial 
to  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans  {vide  H.  F.  Osborne's  book 
"From  the  Greeks  to  Darwin") .  The  philosopher  Kant  has 
been  shown  by  Professor  Lovejoy  to  have  been  an  evolu- 
tionist in  some  of  his  conceptions;  and  Hegel's  dialectic 
trilogy  contains  an  evolutionary  theory  in  nuce.  The 
potential  evolutionism  of  Hegel's  philosophy  did  not  come 
into  its  own,  however,  until  one  of  his  disciples,  Karl  Marx, 
translated  Hegel's  spiritualistic  ideology  in  terms  of  matter, 
thus  laying  the  foundation  for  an  economic  interpretation 
of  history  with  its  definitely  fixed  stages  of  economic 
development. 

Strictly  modern  evolutionism  dates  from  Herbert  Spencer. 
His  ideas  took  shape  under  the  stimulating  influence  of 
Malthus'  law  of  population,  the  evolutionary  geology  of 
Charles  Lyell,  the  embryological  generalizations  of  von 
Baer,  who  first  drew  the  parallel  between  ontogenetic  and 
phylogenetic  development,  and  the  biological  evolutionism 
of  Charles  Darwin.  The  relatively  scant  data  marshalled 
by  Spencer  in  his  "Biology"  and  "Psychology"  were  suf- 
ficient to  provide  him  with  the  groundwork  of  his  evolu- 
tionary system.  When  approaching  the  social  field,  he  was 
confronted  with  more  serious  difficulties.  His  ideas  were, 
of  course,  fashioned  beforehand,  as  may  be  seen  from  the 
early  publication  of  a  skeletal  outline  of  his  philosophy. 
In  its  bearing  on  social  phenomena,  the  theory  of  evolu- 
tion was  to  comprise  the  three  following  principles  of  de- 
velopment :  evolution  is  umfoxin,  gradual  and  progressive, 
meaning  by  this  that  social  forms  and  institutions  pass 
everywhere  and  always  through  the  same  stages  of  develop- 
ment; that  the  transformations  which  they  undergo  are 
gradual,  not  sudden  or  cataclysmic;  and  that  the  changes 
implied  in  these  transformations  point  in  the  direction  of 
improvement  from  less  perfect  to  more  perfect  adjustments, 
from  lower  to  higher  forms. 

Spencer  was  aware  of  the  necessity  of  an  extensive  coUa- 


22  EARLY  CIVILIZATION 

tion  of  data  to  demonstrate  his  theory.  He  also  reah'zed 
that  he  could  not  himself  cover  any  fraction  of  the  necessary 
reading.  He  was,  moreover,  a  very  poor  reader.  Hence, 
he  engaged  the  services  of  a  number  of  assistants  who  did  his 
reading  for  him.  His  evolutionary  stages  were  all  worked 
out  in  considerable  detail  before  this  reading  process  had  be- 
gun, and  what  his  assistants  were  expected  to  do  was  to  find 
illustrations  for  the  stages  of  development  comprised  in  the 
philosopher's  scheme.  This  they  did  by  covering  a  tremen- 
dous literature  of  unequal  worth  and  without  attempting  to 
study  in  a  systematic  way  the  ideas  and  customs  of  any  par- 
ticular tribe. 

The  method  thus  ushered  in  by  Herbert  Spencer  into  the 
study  of  society  presently  became  known  as  the  com- 
parative method  of  anthropology,  and  for  a  generation  it 
remained  in  undisputed  possession  of  the  field.  It  has  since 
been  shown,  however,  that  this  method,  if  used  uncritically, 
could  be  made  to  yield  proof  of  any  theory  of  social  devel- 
opment whatsoever.^ 


^The  essential  principle  of  the  comparative  method  can  be  illustrated  by 
the  following  diagram: 

II       III       IV        V       VI 


3     -       -        In 


>i 


Suppose  I,  11,  .  .  .  represent  tribes  in  different  parts  of  the  world,  and  x, 
2,  .  .  .  ,  stages  in  the  development  of  an  institution  or  form  of  society  or 
religion;  vertical  lines  stand  for  the  presence,  horizontal  ones  for  the  ab- 
sence, of  a  stage  in  a  particular  tribe.  Now  suppose  stage  i  is  illustrated 
by  an  example  from  tribe  I,  stage  2  by  one  from  tribe  II,  etc.  What  the 
classical  evolutionist  did  was  to  connect  stages  i,  2,  .  .  .6,  each  exemplified 
in  one  of  the  six  tribes,  into  a  chronologically  successive  series  of  stages. 
Thus,  he  claimed,  the  evolutionary  theory  stood  vindicated.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  however,  each  one  of  the  stages  belongs  to  a  different  historic  series, 
that,  namely,  of  the  tribe  in  which  it  was  found.  What  then  would  be  the 
only  possible  justification  for  the  evolutionist's  procedure?     It  would  con- 


INTRODUCTION  43 

Although  Spencer  speaks  in  unmistakable  terms  of  civili- 
zation at  large  as  evolving  uniformly,  gradually  and  pro- 
gressively, his  better  insight,  without  being  deliberately  ex- 
pressed, is  revealed  in  the  formal  subdivisions  of  his 
sociology.  He  does  not  there  attempt  to  trace  a  scheme 
of  social  development  in  its  entirety,  but  subdivides  his 
treatise  into  distinct  studies  of  the  development  of  industrial, 
political,  military,  professional  and  other  institutions.  Nor 
does  he  even  supplement  this  separatistic  treatment  of  the 
different  phases  of  civilization  by  any  attempt  to  correlate 
the  diverse  strands  of  development.^ 

A  brilliant  galaxy  of  works  followed  in  the  wake  of 
Spencer's  comparative  studies.  In  the  field  of  religion  one 
may  note  the  writings  of  Grant  Allen,  Frazer,  Lang,  Hart- 
land  and  Jevons;  in  that  of  art,  the  books  by  Haddon  and 
Balfour;  in  social  organization,  the  researches  of  Bachofen, 
McLennan  and  Morgan,  who  became  the  epigoni  of  an  era 
of  social  investigation  and  hypothetical  reconstruction,  and 


list  in  the  assumption  that  the  stages  of  development  in  the  six  tribes  are 
identical.  If  so  nauch  is  taken  for  granted  then  the  particular  stages  of 
development  in  the  six  tribes  are  interchangeable  and  it  becomes  possible  to 
construct  a  chronologically  successive  series  out  of  the  bits  of  evidence  un- 
earthed by  the  evolutionist.  But  is  not  the  assumption  of  the  identity  of 
developmental  stages  in  different  tribes  one  of  the  fundamental  principles 
of  social  evolution?  Thus  the  theory  of  evolution  must  be  accepted  as  a 
postulate  before  the  comparative  method  can  be  used.  It  follows  that  the 
results  of  this  method  cannot  be  regarded  as  proof  but  merely  as  a  series  of 
illustrations  of  a  postulated  evolutionary  theory. 

^While  this  is  so  with  reference  to  Spencer  and  while  most  other  evolu- 
tionists followed  a  similar  procedure,  it  must,  nevertheless,  be  remembered, 
as  a  matter  of  historic  interest,  that  the  classical  formulation  of  the  evolu- 
tionary theory  referred  to  civilization  as  a  whole,  over  and  above  its 
separate  aspects. 

"A  common  misconception  of  the  principle  involved  in  the  evolutionary 
method  may  be  noticed,"  writes  Marett  in  his  book  on  "Psychology  and  Folk 
Lore."  "According  to  this  version,  or  rather  perversion,  of  its  meaning,  it 
would  run  as  follows;  while  the  evolution  of  culture  has  taken  place  inde- 
pendently in  a  number  of  different  areas,  the  process  as  a  whole  has  re- 
peated itself  more  or  less  exactly;  so  that  we  either  may  treat  any  one 
development  as  typical  of  all,  or,  if  no  one  complete  history  be  available, 
may  patch  together  a  representative  account  out  of  fragments  taken  indif- 
ferently from  any  of  the  particular  areas  concerned."  pp.  80-81. 

What  Marett  here  calls  a  common  misconception  of  the  evolutionary 
method  must,  nevertheless,  be  reaffirmed  to  be  the  classical  form  of  it.  The 
services  of  the  early  evolutionists  to  the  science  of  human  civilization  are 
undeniable  and  conspicuous,  nor  does  it  seem  necessary  to  whitewash  the 
record  of  their  achievement  by  befogging  the  historic  perspective. 


a4  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

the  somewhat  later  studies  of  Westermarck  which  are  per- 
vaded by  a  more  critical  spirit;  in  the  domain  of  material 
culture,  finally,  there  is  once  more  the  work  of  Morgan,  that 
of  Buecher,  as  well  as  the  superficial  writings  of  Letourneau, 
who  combined  the  convictions  of  a  dogmatic  evolutionist 
with  the  literary  form  of  a  careless  popularizer,  thus  repre- 
senting classical  evolutionism  at  its  worst. 

A  few  illustrations  will  make  clear  the  contrast  between 
the  reconstructions  of  classical  evolutionism  and  those  of  the 
modern  ethnologists.  In  the  development  of  social  organi- 
zation the  series  of  stages  posited  by  the  evolutionist  was 
as  follows:  promiscuity,  that  is,  a  chaotic  state  of  society 
without  any  structure  whatsoever  and  characterized  by  un- 
regulated sex  intercourse;  followed  by  group  marriage,  in 
which  groups  of  women,  related  or  not,  were  regarded  as 
the  wives  of  groups  of  men,  related  or  not;  followed  by 
the  clan,  a  much  more  clearly  defined  form  of  social  organi- 
zation, in  which  a  tribe  was  divided  into  hereditary  social 
units,  clans,  which  comprised  blood  relatives  as  well  as  un- 
related persons  and  were  based  on  the  maternal  principle, 
children  belonging  to  the  clans  of  their  mothers;  followed 
by  the  gens,  which  was  like  the  clan  except  that  the  children 
belonged  to  the  gentes  of  their  fathers ;  followed  by  a  state 
of  society  in  which  the  individual  family  and  the  local  group 
or  village  became  the  basic  forms  of  organization.  This 
scheme  was  regarded  as  an  universally  applicable  outline 
of  social  development,  through  which  all  tribes  inevitably 
passed. 

Now,  what  is  the  verdict  of  modern  ethnology  on  this 
generalization? 

The  conclusions  derivable  from  more  critical  investiga- 
tions are,  in  brief,  as  follows:  There  seems  to  be  no  evi- 
dence that  a  stage  of  promiscuity  ever  existed;  again,  the 
condition  of  group  marriage,  far  from  being  an  universal 
antecedent  of  individual  marriage,  seems  to  constitute,  in 
the  rare  instances  where  it  occurs,  an  outgrowth  of  a  pre- 
existing state  of  individual  marriage.    The  family  and  local 


INTRODUCTION 

group  are  universal  forms  of  social  organization,  extending 
to  the  very  beginning.  In  some  tribes  the  clan  organization 
never  develops.  In  others  the  clan  follows  the  family- 
village  organization.  In  still  others,  the  gens  follows 
directly  upon  this  early  organization.  The  development  of 
the  gens  out  of  the  clan  has  apparently  occurred  only  in  a 
few  instances.  It  must,  moreover,  be  remembered  that  the 
family-village  grouping  persists  through  all  the  other  forms 
of  organization. 

In  the  domain  of  art  the  evolutionist  claimed  that  realistic 
designs  t:v ere  uniformly  the  earliest.  From  these,  geometric 
d>.signs  developed  through  a  series  of  transformations  which 
represented  ever  higher  degrees  of  conventionalization. 
This  scheme  also  was  regarded  as  universally  applicable. 
In  the  light  of  further  study  the  priority  of  realistic  art  can 
no  longer  be  sustained.  Geometric  and  realistic  designs  and 
carvings  are  equally  basic  and  primitive.  The  process  of 
conventionalization  which  figured  so  prominently  in  the 
evolutionist's  reconstruction,  does  represent  a  frequently 
occurring  phenomenon,  but  this  process  is  neither  necessary 
nor  universal,  nor  is  it  by  any  means  always  gradual.  More- 
over, the  reverse  process  of  the  development  of  realistic 
designs  from  geometric  ones  also  occurs. 

In  material  culture,  the  evolutionist,  basing  his  conclu- 
sions upon  the  archeological  reconstruction  of  European  pre- 
history, posited  the  three  stages:  stone,  bronze  and 
iron.  But  in  the  only  other  culture  area  where  the  use  of 
iron  was  known,  namely,  that  of  Negro  Africa,  the  stage 
of  iron  followed  directly  upon  that  of  stone,  omitting  the 
bronze  stage. 

In  the  domain  of  economic  pursuits  the  evolutionist  is 
responsible  for  the  famous  triad:  hunting,  pastoral  life, 
agriculture.  But  we  know  today  that  while  hunting  belongs 
without  question  to  one  of  the  earliest  economic  pursuits, 
it  persists  through  all  subsequent  stages;  that  agriculture 
was  practiced  by  many  tribes  that  had  never  passed  through 
a  pastoral  stage,  nor  kept  domesticated  animals,  excepting 


26  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

the  dog,  a  condition  exemplified  by  many  tribes  of  North 
America.  Again,  in  Negro  Africa,  agriculture  and  pastoral 
life  are  pursued  on  an  equally  wide  scale.  Historic  agricul- 
ture, moreover,  which  involves  the  domestication  of  animals 
as  well  as  the  cultivation  of  plants,  insofar  as  animals  are 
used  for  agricultural  purposes,  represents  a  much  later 
cultural  phenomenon,  to  be  clearly  distinguished  from  earlier 
agriculture  in  which  the  domestic  animal  and  the  plow  were 
unknown  and  the  hoe  was  the  only  agricultural  implement. 

In  the  light  of  better  historic  insight,  another  error  of 
the  evolutionary  approach  must  fall  to  the  ground.  Follow- 
ing biological  precedent,  the  evolutionist  conceived  of  his- 
toric transformations  as  gradual,  as  consisting  of  slight, 
slowly  Accumulating  changes.  While  it  is  true  that  slow 
changes  in  attitudes,  knowledge  or  mechanical  accomplish- 
ments are  actual  processes  with  which  history  makes  us 
familiar,  this  should  not  obscure  the  equally  conspicuous 
presence  of  relatively  sudden,  cataclysmic  changes  ushered 
in  by  social  or  political  revolutions,  great  wars,  important 
inventions.  The  history  of  modern  art,  science,  philosophy 
and  literature,  abounds  in  examples  of  periods  of  precipi- 
tated change  due  to  the  emergence  of  great  ideas  or  of 
dominant  personalities,  followed  by  protracted  periods  of 
relative  stability,  mere  imitativeness,  stagnation,  or  even 
regression. 

The  third  principle  of  evolution  is  equally  at  fault. 
PFogress  is  no  more  constant  a  characteristic  of  cultural 
change  than  is  uniformity  or  gradual  development.  Progress 
must  be  regarded  as  but  one  among  several  types  of  change 
characteristic  of  the  historic  process.  The  idea  of  progress, 
moreover,  cannot  be  applied  with  equal  success  to  all  phases 
of  civilization. 

Another  vital  defect  of  the  evolutionary  approach  con- 
sisted in  the  evolutionist's  failure  to  appraise  at  their  true 
worth  the  processes  of  cultural  diffusion  in  the  course  of 
historic  contact  between  tribes.  Whether  Professor  Thorn- 
dike  is  right  or  not  in  his  assertion  that  the  relation  of 


INTRODUCTION  2^ 

indigenous  to  borrowed  traits  in  any  civilization  is  as  one  to 
ten,  the  fact  is  undeniable  that  the  borrowing,  adoption  and 
assimilation  of  imported  commodities  and  ideas  is  an  ever 
present  and  culturally  significant  phenomenon,  equally  con- 
spicuous in  modern  as  well  as  in  primitive  society.  The 
evolutionist  was,  of  course,  aware  of  the  presence  of  this 
aspect  of  the  historic  process,  but  he  tried  to  justify  his 
disregard  of  it  by  affecting  a  cynical  attitude  toward  dif- 
fusion: the  phenomena  of  inner  growth  were  organic,  reg- 
ular, explanatory;  those  of  diffusion  or  borrowing,  were 
irregular,  accidental,  disturbing.  How  artificial  and  unreal 
does  this  approach  appear  to  any  one  who  views  history 
with  a  clear  eye  and  an  open  mind !  For  is  it  not  patent  that 
historic  borrowing  is  as  constant  and  basic  a  process  as 
growth  from  within?  The  civilizational  role  of  borrowing 
is  fundamental.  The  importation  of  foreign  products  and 
ideas  enables  a  group,  whether  modern  or  primitive,  to 
profit  by  the  cultural  opportunities  of  its  neighbors.  The 
juxtaposition,  moreover,  of  varying  and  contrasting  at- 
titudes, ideas  and  customs  ever  tends  to  break  down  tradi- 
tional rut  and  to  stimulate  change.  Culture  contact  thus 
appears  as  the  veritable  yeast  of  history,  and  to  disregard 
it  is  to  develop  a  blind-spot  in  one's  historic  vision,  which 
cannot  but  prove  fatal  to  any  theory  of  historic  development. 


PART  I 
EARLY  CIVILIZATIONS  ILLUSTRATED 


INTRODUCTION 

In  this  part  of  the  book  our  primary  concern  Is  with  civil- 
ization. Civilization  is  a  continuum  and  cannot  be  under- 
stood unless  justice  is  done  to  all  its  aspects.  This  is  true 
even  though  some  of  these  or  perhaps  only  one  may  rise 
to  extraordinary  importance  in  particular  instances.  No 
adequate  idea  could  be  given  of  Tsarist  Russia  by  describing 
its  agricultural  activities  alone,  nor  of  ante-war  Germany  by 
sketching  only  its  political  structure,  nor  of  France  by  pre- 
senting a  picture  of  its  artistic  attainments.  The  different 
aspects  of  civilization  interlock  and  intertwine,  presenting 
— in  a  word — a  continuum,  which  must  be  studied  as  an 
organic  unit.  This  applies  to  modern  society  and  even  more 
emphatically  to  primitive  society. 

That  is  why  the  realities  of  early  life  remain  wholly  for- 
eign to  a  reader,  well  versed  though  he  may  be  in  history 
and  sociology,  as  long  as  his  only  sources  of  information  are 
books  like  E.  B.  Tylor's  "Primitive  Culture"  or  N.  W. 
Thomas'  "The  Native  Tribes  of  Australia."  Tylor's  is  a 
very  great  book,  but  early  civilization  appears  in  it  in  the 
form  of  disjointed  fragments  of  custom,  thought  and  belief, 
and  the  task  of  rearranging  these  fragments  into  a  picture 
of  primitive  culture  is  wholly  beyond  the  powers  of  a  non- 
professional reader.  Thomas'  book  is  of  a  very  different 
order:  he  deals  with  only  one  continent  and  attempts  to 
cover  all  aspects  of  civilization.  But  Australia  is  the  home 
of  many  tribes,  and  their  cultures  comprise  many  differences. 
Thus,  the  meshes  of  Thomas'  descriptive  network  must  be 
spread  so  wide  that  concrete  reality,  once  more,  slips  through 
them. 

The  only  way,  then,  to  know  early  civilization  is  to  study 
it  in  the  wholeness  of  its  local  manifestations.  This  task 
will  be  attempted  in  the  following  five  chapters.  But  first 
two  possible  queries  must  be  answered :  to  what  extent  do  the 

31 


32  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

brief  sketches  here  presented  deserve  to  pass  as  descriptions 
of  early  civilizations?  and,  what  determined  the  selection  of 
the  tribes  to  be  described? 

A  detailed  description  of  one  of  the  better  known  tribes 
or  tribal  groups  readily  assumes  considerable  bulk.  Before 
one  has  adequately  dealt  with  the  mythology,  the  minutiae 
of  ceremonial  life,  the  wellnigh  interminable  odds  and  ends 
of  material  culture,  several  volumes  barely  suffice  to  cover 
the  accumulated  mass  of  data.  The  individual  sketches 
presented  here,  on  the  other  hand,  do  not  exceed  some 
twenty  or  twenty-five  pages.  To  achieve  this,  the  data  had 
to  be  selected,  and  the  selection  had  to  be  based  on  one's 
judgment  of  the  indispensable,  the  typical,  the  significant. 
Such  judgments  are  bound  to  be  subjective,  to  a  degree, 
and  the  responsibility  rests  with  the  one  who  selects. 

Over  and  above  this  general  sifting  of  data,  one  aspect 
of  civilization  has  been  chosen  in  each  case  for  somewhat 
more  careful  treatment,  the  choice  having  been  determined 
by  the  suggestiveness  or  theoretical  importance  of  that 
aspect.  Thus,  decorative  art  is  given  prominence  in  dealing 
with  the  Tlingit  and  Haida  of  Northwest  America;  eco- 
nomic and  industrial  adjustments  to  environmental  condi- 
tions are  emphasized  in  the  Eskimo  sketch ;  among  Iroquois 
traits,  their  socio-political  system  is  treated  somewhat  more 
minutely,  with  especial  emphasis  on  the  great  prominence 
of  women  in  this  group;  similarly,  in  the  description  of  the 
Australian  tribes  their  magical  beliefs  and  practices  are 
stressed,  while  the  African  Baganda  are  represented  as  a 
type  of  Negro  state  organization. 

It  must  not  be  imagined,  however,  that  the  cultural  traits 
thus  given  prominence  in  our  discussion  would  loom  as  high 
in  the  estimation  of  the  natives  themselves.  To  assume  this, 
in  fact,  would  be  introducing  a  distinct  bias  into  one's  cul- 
tural vision  of  these  people.  The  Australian,  for  example, 
might  well  express  surprise  that  his  magic  had  been  made  so 
much  of  rather  than  his  hunting,  his  loving  or  his  playing; 
while  the  Eskimo  might  object,  with  equal  justice,  that  his 


INTRODUCTION  33 

domestic  habits,  his  visiting  and  story  telling  constituted  as 
essential  a  part  of  his  life  as  the  kayak,  sledge,  drill  and 
harpoon. 

Why,  finally,  the  particular  selection?  Why  just  the  Tlin* 
git,  Haida,  Eskimo,  Baganda  and  Arunta?  The  answer  is 
simple  and  I  hope  sufficient.  In  view  of  the  treatment  here 
adopted,  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  tribes  described  was 
an  indispensable  prerequisite.  Therefore,  I  selected  the 
tribes  I  knew  best,  restricting  the  number  and  the  length  of 
the  sketches  in  accordance  with  the  space  available.  It 
seemed  desirable  to  use  the  American  tribes  as  the  backbone 
of  the  descriptive  section;  therefore  three  of  the  groups  be- 
long to  this  continent.  The  comparison  with  one  African 
and  one  Australian  civilization  serves  to  bring  into  relief 
the  similarities  and  differences  of  the  American  groups  as 
well  as  to  emphasize  the  continental  contrasts.  It  must  be 
remembered,  then,  that  the  ZunI,  Omaha  or  Thompson 
would  have  served  just  as  well  for  America,  the  Bushongo, 
Yoruba,  Massai  or  Zulu  for  Africa,  and  for  Australia  the 
DIeri  or  Wotjabuluk.  Thus,  whatever  general  conclusions 
may  be  reached  on  the  basis  of  the  descriptive  sketches  in 
this  section,  will  have  to  be  regarded  as  correlated  with  the 
particular  five  tribes  selected  only  in  an  incidental,  not  in  a 
specific  way. 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  ESKIMO:    A  CASE  OF  ENVIRONMENTAL 
ADJUSTMENT 

i  The  E«kimo,  like  the  American  Indians,  represent  an  off- 
shoot of  the  great  Mongolian  stock,  but  the  physical  char- 
acteristics as  well  as  the  cultural  peculiarities  of  the  Eskimo 
are  so  distinct  that  it  is  customary  to  speak  of  this  curious 
people  as  separate  from  the  Indian^  The  Eskimo  tribes  in- 
habit in  America  the  entire  Arctic  littoral  from  Greenland 
to  Alaska.  Their  habitations,  consisting  of  small  clusters 
of  snow  houses,  prefer  the  neighborhood  of  the  coast  and 
but  seldom  extend  far  into  the  interior. 

In  this  remote  and  detached  environment,  almost  out  of 
reach  of  foreign  civilizations,  and  under  the  stress  of  ex- 
ceedingly hard  climatic  and  topographical  conditions,  the 
Eskimo  have  worked  out  their  salvation  with  a  very  remark- 
able degree  of  ingenuity  and  success. 

In  their  stories  and  myths  the  Eskimo  display  a  peculiar 
lack  of  imaginativeness.  They  are  not  given  to  speculation 
nor  do  they  show  much  concern  for  the  origins  of  things  and 
the  development  of  the  present  order.  In  nature  as  in  the 
affairs  of  man  things  always  were  much  as  they  are  now. 
The  pictures  of  Eskimo  life  represented  in  the  myths  faith- 
fully reflect  their  life  of  today.  Attempts  at  explaining  the 
peculiarities  of  animals  or  the  origin  of  the  animals  them- 
selves, a  common  feature  of  early  mythologies,  occur  but 
seldom  among  the  Eskimo,  and  when  that  is  the  case,  the 
themes  are  treated  lightly  and  without  much  detail  or  embel- 
lishment. Their  stories,  however,  do  tell  of  encounters  with 
giants  and  dwarfs.  The  giants,  very  large  but  stupid,  fall 
an  easy  prey  to  Eskimo  skill  and  wits,  while  the  dwarfs, 
diminutive  in  size  but  exceedingly  strong,  are  in  the  end  also 
overcome  by  the  Eskimo.  A  wide-spread  theme  is  the  story 
of  an   orphan  boy  who  lives   among  strangers,   being  ill- 

34 


THE    ESKIMO  35 

treated  In  all  sorts  of  ways.  He  endures  everything  In  si- 
lence, until  one  day  he  encounters  a  wolf  or  some  semi-super- 
natural creature,  from  whom,  in  a  variety  of  ways  (accord- 
ing to  the  version  of  the  myth),  he  acquires  superhuman 
powers.  On  his  way  home  he  performs  miraculous  feats  of 
strength,  such  as  picking  up  rocks  and  tossing  them  about. 
At  home  he  hides  the  fact  of  his  great  strength  from  his  as- 
sociates and  pretends  to  be  meek  and  submissive  as  before. 
After  a  while,  some  untoward  accident  happens,  such  as  an 
attack  by  a  polar  bear.  Then  the  orphan  rises  to  the  occa- 
sion, seizes  the  bear  by  the  hind  legs,  and  whirling  him 
through  the  air,  smashes  his  head  against  a  rock.  The  peo- 
ple are  overcome  with  gratitude  and  prepared  to  do  him 
homage  for  his  valor,  but  he  will  have  none  of  it;  and  usu- 
ally the  story  ends  by  his  humiliating  them  or  even  putting 
them  all  to  death. 

The  myth  which  is  most  current  among  the  different  Es- 
kimo tribes  and  plays  a  conspicuous  part  in  their  mythology 
and  religion  is  the  story  of  Sedna,  the  goddess  of  the  winds 
and  the  sea  mammals.  Sedna  was  living  with  her  husband, 
the  dog,  until  one  day,  in  the  absence  of  the  dog,  she  was 
kidnapped  by  a  hostile  petrel-  When  the  dog  returned  and 
found  her  gone,  he  started  out  in  pursuit  in  his  kayak  ac- 
companied by  Sedna's  father.  They  reached  the  home  of 
the  abductor  and,  in  his  absence,  recaptured  Sedna  and 
started  back  across  the  sea.  After  a  while  the  wind  rose, 
waves  began  to  shake  the  kayak,  threatening  to  upset  it. 
Then  Sedna's  father,  realizing  the  approach  of  the  petrel, 
seizes  his  daughter  and  throws  her  into  the  sea.  She  clings 
to  the  gunwale  with  the  first  joints  of  her  fingers.  The 
father  chops  them  off.  The  joints  fall  into  the  sea  and  are 
-transformed  into  killer  whales.  She  clings  on  with  her  sec- 
ond joints.  They  also  are  chopped  off  and  are  transformed 
into  ground  seals.  She  clings  to  the  boat  with  her  third 
joints,  which,  when  chopped  off,  become  transformed  into 
seals.  She  still  clings  on  with  the  stumps  of  her  wrists. 
Then  her  father  hits  her  on  the  head  with  a  club.     She  lets 


36  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

go  of  the  boat,  sinks  and  drowns.  The  father  and  the  dog 
reach  the  shore  safely,  and  the  old  man  falls  asleep  on  the 
beach  in  front  of  his  tent.  Then  the  sea  rises  and  over- 
whelms him.  Since  then,  Sedna  lives  at  the  bottom  of  the 
sea,  with  her  father.  Sedna,  the  great  goddess,  is  believed  to 
be  in  control  of  the  sea-mammals  as  well  as  of  the  weather; 
and  when  angered  she  shows  her  ire  by  sending  storms  and 
famine. 

Many  versions  of  the  Sedna  myth  occur  among  the  dif- 
ferent Eskimo  tribes. 

Next  to  Sedna  the  most  important  beings  of  Eskimo  cos- 
mology are  the  inua,  supernatural  creatures  who  may  be- 
come the  helpers  and  protectors  of  man.  Then  they  are 
known  as  tornaq.  While  most  men  can  thus  acquire  tornaq, 
the  ones  that  are  most  favored  by  the  supernatural  helpers 
are  the  angakut  or  magicians.  The  three  most  powerful 
tornaq  are  conceived  as  a  person,  a  bear  and  a  stone.  The 
human  tornaq  is  a  woman  with  one  eye  in  the  middle  of  her 
forehead.  Another  human  tornaq  that  is  deemed  very 
powerful  is  the  so-called  "Master  of  the  Dancing  House"; 
this  creature  is  shaped  like  a  bandy-legged  man  with  his 
knees  bent  outward  and  forward.  The  bear  tornaq  is  a 
huge  creature  without  hair,  except  on  the  points  of  the  ears 
and  of  the  tail  and  about  the  mouth.  The  stone  tornaq  is 
shaped  somewhat  like  an  irregular  boulder,  has  no  legs,  but 
goes  about  wobbling  on  the  ground. 

The  tornaq  are  in  the  habit  of  bestowing  presents  upon 
their  favorites  in  the  form  of  amulets,  which  bring  to  their 
owners  various  forms  of  good  fortune.  Some  of  these  amu- 
lets may  also  be  inherited  from  individual  to  individual. 
Among  the  most  common  amulets  are  a  feather  of  an  owl, 
a  bear's  tooth,  a  chip  of  some  rare  mineral,  or  a  bit  of  a 
child's  first  garment.  Great  snow  structures,  the  so-called 
singing  or  dancing  houses,  are  built  to  some  of  the  more 
important  tornaq;  in  these  houses  ceremonies  are  per- 
formed. The  arrangement  of  the  ceremonial  participants 
in  one  of  the  singing  houses  can  be  seen  from  the  drawing. 


THE    ESKIMO 


37 


O    SiNtM 
O  LAMP 

O  MAfimcO  WOMCN 
<D  UNMAHWtO  WOHEN 
»   MIN 
•    CHIIDMN 

Fig.  I 
(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  p.  600) 

It  has  been  seen  that  the  sea  mammals  are  conceived  as 
having  originated  from  Sedna's  fingers.  Therefore,  atone- 
ment must  be  made  for  every  animal  killed.  When  a  seal 
is  brought  in,  all  work  must  be  stopped  until  it  is  cut  open. 
When  the  animal  killed  is  a  ground  seal,  a  walrus  or  a  whale, 
there  is  an  enforced  rest  lasting  three  days.  There  are  some 
exceptions  to  this.  Thus,  seal  skin  articles  may  be  made 
over  during  this  period,  but  nothing  new  can  be  made.  No 
deer  skin  obtained  in  the  summer  may  be  touched  until  the 
first  seal  is  caught  with  the  harpoon.  Later,  when  the  first 
walrus  is  caught,  the  work  on  deer  must  stop  once  more. 

The  last  few  regulations  represent  aspects  of  a  general 
cycle  of  taboos  which  separate  the  activities  centering  around 
the  deer,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  sea  mammals,  on  the 
other;  the  two  sets  of  functions  must  be  kept  strictly  apart, 
and  in  some  localities  even  dogs  are  not  allowed  to  gnaw 
deer  bones  during  the  seal  season  and  vice  versa.  Again, 
deer  bones  must  not  be  broken  while  walrus  are  hunted; 
and  so  on. 

Special  sets  of  taboos  are  imposed  upon  women  during 
certain  periods.  They  are  not  permitted  to  eat  raw  meat, 
must  cook  in  separate  pots,  must  not  join  in  festivals.  In 
the  nature  of  the  case,  some  of  these  taboos  are  occasion- 
ally transgressed.  In  this  connection  certain  peculiar  cus- 
toms have  developed. 


2.11  S4  4 


38  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

According  to  Eskimo  ideas,  the  transgression  of  a  taboo 
takes  the  form  of  a  black  object  which  attaches  itself  to  the 
culprit,  an  object  invisible  to  humans,  but  which  can  be  seen 
by  the  animals  as  well  as  by  the  angakut  or  medicine-men. 
When  a  hunter  transgresses  a  taboo,  the  animals  frightened 
by  the  black  object  will  avoid  him,  and  he  will  not  be  able 
to  kill  them.  Thus,  a  famine  may  be  threatened.  To  fore- 
stall S9  great  a  calamity,  the  culprit  is  expected  to  make  a 
public  confession,  whereupon  his  guilt  is  regarded  as  wiped 
out  and  normal  conditions  are  restored.  Should  confession 
be  withheld,  however,  famine  or  disease  will  ensue. 

Here  the  angakok  steps  in.  One  of  his  principal  functions 
is  to  save  the  situation  in  grave  predicaments  such  as  this. 
When  the  crisis  has  become  acute  and  no  confession  is  made 
by  any  one,  the  angakok  summons  a  public  gathering  and  by 
magical  means  detects  the  culprit,  who,  when  thus  identified, 
stands  in  serious  danger  of  his  or  her  life.  When  the  trans- 
gression has  been  confessed  or  brought  to  light  by  the  an- 
gakok, the  danger  of  famine  or  sickness  is  regarded  as  passed 
and  normal  conditions  are  restored. 

In  their  artistic  activities  the  Eskimo  display  singular  skill. 
Their  women,  who  cut  and  sew  the  fur  garments,  also  em- 
bellish them  with  very  simple  geometrical  designs  in  em- 
broidery or  applique,  while  the  men  decorate  the  bone  ob- 
jects with  etched  designs  and  carve  the  characteristic  Eskimo 
bone  figurines,  diminutive  in  size,  like  the  etchings,  but  skill- 
fully fashioned  in  the  shape  of  sea  mammals,  reindeer,  hu- 
man beings,  or  objects  of  Eskimo  material  culture.  In 
the  etched  designs  the  forms  are  always  indicated  in  out- 
line only,  and  with  very  few  lines,  but  by  a  clever  manipu- 
lation of  the  position  of  arms,  legs  and  body,  the  Eskimo 
contrive  to  convey  a  suggestion  of  motion,  and  even  of 
emotional  expression.  The  skill  with  which  the  Eskimo 
portray  action  in  a  medium  which  lends  itself  but  poorly 
for  that  function  brings  to  mind  a  similar  tendency  in  the 
much  more  elaborate  art  of  China  and  Japan. 

The  social  organization  of  the  Eskimo  is  simple.    They 


/• 


THE    ESKIMO  39 

live  in  families,  and  a  small  number  of  families  occupying 
several  snow  houses  constitute  a  village.  There  are  no 
chiefs,  the  only  permanently  influential  individuals  being  the 
angakut  who,  as  described  before,  have  considerable  pres- 
tige with  the  people.  Outside  of  these,  the  leaders  are  men 
who  have  distinguished  themselves  by  their  skill  in  any  of 
the  important  economic  pursuits  and  are,  therefore,  selected 
as  leaders  of  hunting  and  fishing  expeditions,  and  the  lilce. 
The  status  of  these  leaders  is,  however,  a  purely  individual 
matter,  their  position  is  never  inherited,  nor  is  their  reputa- 
tion such  as  to  command  obedience,  except  in  those  situations 
where,  through  their  special  competence,  they  find  them- 
selves in  temporary  control. 

Sex  morality  among  the  Eskimo  has  often  been  designated 
as  loose,  on  account  of  the  apparent  laxity  in  the  relations 
of  the  sexes,  both  before  and  after  marriage.  The  alleged 
"looseness"  of  these  relations  is,  however,  a  misnomer,  for 
here  as  everywhere  else,  there  exist  definite  standards 
and  regulations  of  sex  behavior.  These  standards,  which, 
of  course,  differ  from  our  own,  are  adhered  to  hy  the 
Eskimo.  Whatever  sex  contact  may  take  place  between  a 
married  woman  and  a  man  other  than  her  husband,  is  sub- 
ject to  the  husband's  control;  should  a  wife  indulge  in  any 
sexual  irregularities  without  his  knowledge,  she  suffers  for  it 
severely  if  detected.  There  is,  in  particular,  one  Eskimo 
custom,  which  has  quite  unjustly  been  criticized  as  reveal- 
ing their  immorality.  This  is  the  so-called  prostitution  of 
hospitality,  in  accordance  with  which  it  is  customary  for  a 
husband  to  offer  his  wife  for  the  night  to  a  visiting  stranger. 
A  rejection^  of  this  offer  is  resented  and  regarded  as  an 
insult  both  to  the  woman  and  the  host. 

The  Eskimo  are  a  peace-loving  people.  Barring  the  blood- 
curdling combats  of  their  mythologic  tales,  they  fight  but 
seldom.  Outside  of  the  sway  of  the  custom  of  blood  re- 
venge, which  is  found  here  as  well  as  practically  everywhere 
in  the  primitive  world,  they  are  also  remarkably  mild  in  the 
matter  of  punishment.     A  not  uncommon  way  of  dealing 


^ 


>^^\ 


40 


EARLY    CIVILIZATION 


with  offenses  Is  for  the  aggrieved  party  to  challenge  the  of- 
fender to  a  satirical  song  contest.  Challenger  and  chal- 
lenged compose  satirical  songs  about  each  other,  which  in 
due  time  they  deliver,  surrounded  and  supported  by  their 
friends.  The  man  whose  song  receives  the  greater  acclaim 
on  the  part  of  the  audience,  wins  and  temporarily  gains  in 
social  prestige,  while  the  position  of  his  rival  is  correspond- 
ingly debased. 

The  element  of  Eskimo  civilization  in  which  their  environ- 
mental adjustment  is  most  conspicuous  is  their  material  cul- 
ture :  their  tools,  weapons,  conveyances  and  habitations. 
Many  of  these  represent  remarkable  examples  of  ingenuity 
and  skill. 

During  the  larger  part  of  the  year  these  people  live  in 
snow  houses,  semi-spherical  structures  made  of  slabs  of 
snow,  which  are  cut  by  means  of  the  so-called  snow  knives 
from  the  snow  drifts  always  to  be  found  in  an  Eskimo  neigh- 
borhood. 

In  the  drawing,  Fig  3  is  the  ground  plan  of  a  house, 
while   Fig.    2   represents   an 
outside  view  with  a  cross  sec- 
tion of  passageway  (c). 

The    section    a    in    front 
of     the     entrance     is     pro-a-^'' 
tected      by      a      semi-circu-      V' 
lar  turn  in   the   wall   which 
prevents  the  wind  and  snow 


Fig.  2  Fig.  3 

(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  pp.  S4»-S4») 


THE    ESKIMO  41 

from  blowing  directly  into  the  house,  b  18  formed  by  a 
small  dome  about  six  feet  in  height,  while  the  two  doors  arc 
about  two  and  one-half  feet  in  height.  Equally  high  is  the 
passage  c  formed  by  an  elliptical  vault.  The  door  to  the 
main  room  is  about  three  feet  high,  while  the  floor  of  the  lat- 
ter is  about  nine  inches  above  the  floor  of  the  passage,  so  that 
any  moisture  accumulated  on  the  floor  of  the  main  room  will 
flow  off  into  the  passage,  but  the  opposite  will  not  occur.  The 
small  compartments  d  are  formed  by  vaults  and  may  be 
entered  either  through  small  doors  from  the  main  room  or 
the  passage,  or  by  the  removal  of  one  of  the  snow  slabs 
from  the  outside.  The  compartments  are  used  for  storing 
clothing,  harness,  meat  and  blubber.  Over  the  entrance  to 
the  main  room  a  window  is  cut  through  the  wall,  which  is 
either  square  or  more  often  arched.  This  window  is  cov- 
ered with  the  intestines  of  ground  seals,  neatly  sewed  to- 
gether, the  seams  extending  vertically.  In  the  center  of  the 
window  is  a  hole  for  looking  out,  into  which  a  piece  of  fresh 
water  ice  is  sometimes  inserted. 

In  the  main  room,  on  both  sides  (h)  of  the  door  and  in 
the  back  of  the  room  (^)  a  bank  of  snow  two  and  one-half 
feet  high  is  raised,  leaving  a  passage  five  feet  wide  and  six 
feet  long  (e).  The  rear  part  is  the  bed  (^)  while  on  the 
two  sides  (h)  the  lamps  (/)  are  placed  and  meat  and  refuse 
are  heaped. 

Before  the  bed  is  arranged  and  the  house  furnished,  the 
vault  is  lined  with  skins,  often  the  cover  of  the  summer  hut. 
The  skin  lining  is  fastened  to  the  roof  by  small  ropes  which 
are  kept  in  pgsition  by  toggles  outside  of  the  wall  (Fig.  4) : 


Fig.  4 
(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  p.  542) 


4* 


EARLY    CIVILIZATION 


The  flat  roof  in  the  upper  part  of  the  lining  extends  two  or 
three  feet  below  the  top  of  the  vault ;  this  prevents  the  warm 
air  in  the  house  from  melting  the  snow  roof,  as  there  is  al- 
ways some  colder  air  between  the  skins  and  the  roof.  Near 
the  top  of  the  building  a  small  hole  is  cut  in  the  roof  for 
ventilation;  this  also  provides  the  draught  necessary  for  the 
lamps:  the  cold  air  enters  through  the  door,  fills  the  pass- 
age, is  warmed,  rises  to  the  lamps  and  escapes  through  the 
skin  lining  and  the  hole. 

Space  does  not  permit  to  dwell  on  any  further  details  of 
the  snow  house.  We  must  now  turn  to  the  equally  interesting 
contrivances  used  by  the  Eskimo  as  means  of  transportation: 
the  kayak  and  the  sledge. 


Fig.  5 


-^^mmatfrnn'r''^ 


Fig.  6 

Kayak  and  framework 

(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  pp.  486-7) 

A  variety  of  kayaks  occur,  one  of  which  is  represented 
here.  When  the  framework  is  ready,  the  whole  frame  is 
covered  with  skins  tightly  sewed  together  and  almost  water- 
proof. When  put  upon  the  frame,  the  skin  covering  is 
wetted  thoroughly  and  then  stretched  until  it  fits  tightly;  it 
is  tied  by  thongs  to  the  rim  of  the  hole.  The  thongs  sewed 
to  the  skin  in  several  places  (as  visible  in  the  sketch)  are 
used  to  keep  in  position  the  kayak  implements,  which  con- 
sist of  a  large  harpoon  and  its  line,  with  the  seal  skin  float 


THE    ESKIMO 


43 


attached,  a  receptacle  for  the  line,  a  bird  spear  with  throw- 
ing board,  and  two  lances. 

The  harpoon  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  contrivances 
of  the  Eskimo.  It  consists  of  four  parts,  as  indicated  in  the 
drawing : 


Fig.  7 


b 

0  Fig.  9  Fig.  io 

(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  pp.  488-489) 


The  shaft  {a)  consists  of  a  stout  pole,  from  one-half  to 
five  feet  long;  to  its  lower  end  an  ivory  knob  (^)  is  fastened. 
At  the  center  of  gravity  of  the  shaft  a  small  piece  of  ivory 
(^)  is  attached  which  supports  the  hand  when  the  weapon 
is  thrown;  at  right  angles  to  knob  e  another  small  ivory 
knob  (/)  is  inserted  in  the  shaft,  which  holds  the  harpoon 


44  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

line.  The  ivory  head  (^)  is  fitted  upon  the  shaft  so  snugly 
that  no  other  devices  are  used  to  insure  its  remaining  in 
place.  The  walrus  tusk  (c)  articulates  with  b  by  means  of 
a  ball  and  socket  joint.  The  point  of  c,  finally,  fits  into 
the  lower  end  of  the  harpoon  point  (d),  as  may  be  seen  in 
Fig.  7.  The  walrus  tusk  is  attached  by  thongs  to  the 
shaft,  which  transforms  the  latter,  the  ivory  knob  and  the 
tuck  into  a  firm  unit  (Fig.  10).  As  seen  in  Fig.  12,  the  har- 
poon line  is  attached  to  the  point  {d)  and  then  another  little 
contrivance  (h)  which  is  attached  to  the  line  is  pulled  over 
the  ivory  knob  (/) .  The  line  between  the  point  and  h  is  just 
long  enough  for  h  to  reach  to  /,  and  so  long  as  the  tusk  {e) 
remains  in  position,  the  shaft  and  point  are  thus  firmly  held 
together.  When  the  harpoon  is  thrown  and  the  animal  is 
struck,  the  tusk  moves  laterally  in  the  ball  and  socket  joint; 
this  diminishes  the  distance  between  the  point  d  and  the 
knob  f  {as  m  b),  h  slips  off,  thus  disengaging  the  line  and 
harpoon  point  from  the  shaft  (as  in  c).  Thus  the  precious 
point,  which  is  often  made  with  great  care,  is  saved  to  the 
hunter. 


In  connection  with  the  bird  spear  (Fig.  13)  a  throwing 
board  is  used,  as  shown  in  the  drawing  (Fig.  14). 


THE    ESKIMO 


45 


Fig.  13  Fig.  14 

(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  p.  496) 

The  ivory  knob  (c)  at  the  end  of  the  spear  shaft  has  a* 
small  hole,  into  which  the  spike  (d)  at  the  end  of  the  groove 
in  the  throwing  board  is  inserted  when  the  spear  is  in  posi- 
tion for  throwing.  When  in  use,  the  board  is  held  firmly  in 
the  right  hand,  the  first  finger  passing  through  hole  ^,  and 
the  thumb  clasping  the  notch  /,  while  the  points  of  the  other 
fingers  hold  on  to  the  notches  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
board  (ff).  The  spear  is  violently  thrust  forward  by  the 
spike  and  attains  considerable  velocity. 

When  the  harpoon  is  used  on  powerful  animals  such  as 
whales,  a  contrivance  is  sometimes  inserted  some  distance 
from  the  seal-skin  float.  It  consists  of  a  wooden  hoop  with 
a  seal  or  deer  skin  stretched  over  it.  Three  or  four  thongs 
of  equal  length  are  fastened  to  the  hoop  at  equal  distances 
and  bound  together.     At  the  point  of  union  they  are  at- 


46  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

tachcd  to  the  line.  In  the  drawing  (Fig  15)  this  contriv- 
ance is  represented  in  action  in  conjunction  with  five  seal-skin 
floats. 


Fig.  15 
(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  p.  500) 

As  soon  as  the  animal  is  struck,  it  begins  to  swim  away. 
Then  the  hoop  assumes  a  position  at  right  angles  to  the 
line.  Thus  a  strong  resistance  comes  into  play,  the  speed 
of  the  animal  is  reduced,  and  its  strength  soon  exhausted. 
The  buoyancy  of  the  float  prevents  the  animal's  escape; 
moreover,  it  is  unable  to  dive  and  is  thus  forced  to  remain 
within  sight  of  the  hunter. 

While  the  kayak  is  used  for  hunting,  it  is  evidently  too 
slight  a  conveyance  for  the  transportation  by  water  of 
either  men  or  things.  For  that  purpose  another  kind  of 
boat  is  used,  much  larger,  heavier  and  clumsier  than  the 
kayak.  It  is  also  a  skin  boat  over  a  wooden  frame,  with  the 
difference  that  the  top  of  the  boat  remains  uncovered.  It  is 
propelled  by  means  of  two  single-bladed  oars — three  or 
four  women  generally  working  at  each  oar — while  a  double- 
bladed  paddle  is  always  used  with  the  kayak. 

What  the  kayak  and  the  "woman's  boat"  are  for  naviga- 
tion, the  sledge  (Fig.  16)  is  for  transportation  and  travel 
on  land.  Among  the  tribes  where  driftwood  is  plentiful 
(Hudson  Straits  and  Davis  Straits)  the  best  sledges  are 
made  with  long  wooden  runners.  The  sledges  have  two  run- 
ners from  five  to  fifteen  feet  long  and  twenty  inches  to  two 
and  one-half  feet  apart.  They  are  connected  by  cross  bars  of 
wood  or  bone  (a)  and  the  back  is  formed  by  deer's  antlers 


THE    ESKIMO 


47 


(b)  with  the  skull  attached.  This  back  is  used  for  steering, 
for  attaching  the  lashing  when  a  load  is  carried  and  for 
hanging  the  snow  knife  and  the  harpoon  line  upon  it.  The 
bottom  of  the  runners  is  shod  with  whalebone,  ivory  or  the 
jaw  bones  of  a  whale  (c).  In  long  sledges  the  shoeing  is 
made  broadest  at  the  head.  When  traveling  over  soft  snow, 
this  proves  of  value,  as  the  snow  is  pressed  down  by  the 
broad  surfaces  of  the  runners  at  the  head,  and  the  sledge 
glides  over  it  without  sinking  in  very  deeply. 

The  shoe  is  either  tied  or  riveted  to  the  runner.     In  the 
former  case,  the  lashing  passes  through  sunken  drill  holes, 


Fig.  1 6 
(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  p.  529) 

to  prevent  friction  when  moving  over  the  snow.  The  right 
and  left  sides  of  a  whale's  jaw  are  often  used  for  shoes,  as 
they  are  of  the  right  size,  thus  providing  excellent  one-piece 
shoes.  The  exposed  points  of  the  runners  are  frequently 
protected  with  bone  also  on  the  upper  side. 

The  cross  bars  (a)  are  lashed  to  the  runners  by  thongs 
which  pass  through  two  pairs  of  holes  in  each  bar  and  cor- 
responding ones  in  the  runners.  The  bars  extend  beyond 
the  runners  on  each  side,  a  sort  of  neck  being  formed  in  the 
projecting  parts  by  notches  on  the  two  sides  of  the  bar  (sec 
drawing).  When  a  load  is  lashed  onto  the  sledge,  the 
thongs  are  fastened  to  these  necks. 

Under  the  foremost  cross  bar  there  is  a  hole  in  each  run- 
ner through  which  a  very  stout  thong  passes,  which  is  pre- 


48 


EARLY    CIVILIZATION 


vented  by  a  button  from  slipping  through.  One  thong  ends 
in  a  loop  (e),  to  the  other  a  clasp  (^)  is  tied,  which,  when 
in  use,  passes  through  the  loop  at  the  end  of  the  other  thong. 
Upon  this  line  the  dogs'  traces  are  strung  by  means  of  a 
small  implement  with  a  large  and  small  eyelet:  to  one  the 
trace  is  tied,  the  other  is  used  for  stringing  the  implement 
upon  the  stout  thong.^ 


*  Professor  Boas'  remarks  on  the  treatment  of  Eskimo  dogs  and  on  their 
behavior  are  so  interesting  that  they  deserve  to  be  quoted  verbatim    (pp. 

533-4) : 

"The  strongest  and  most  spirited  dog  has  the  longest  trace  and  is  allowed 
to  run  a  few  feet  in  advance  of  the  rest  as  a  leader;  its  sex  is  indifferent, 
the  choice  being  made  chiefly  with  regard  to  strength.  Next  to  the  leader 
follow  two  or  three  strong  dogs  with  traces  of  equal  length,  and  the  weaker 
and  less  manageable  the  dogs  the  nearer  they  run  to  the  sledge.  A  team  is 
almost  unmanageable  if  the  dogs  are  not  accustomed  to  one  another.  They 
must  know  their  leader,  who  brings  them  to  terms  whenever  there  is  a 
quarrel.  In  a  good  team  the  leader  must  be  the  acknowledged  chief,  else  the 
rest  will  fall  into  disorder  and  refuse  to  follow  him.  His  authority  is  almost 
unlimited.  When  the  dogs  are  fed,  he  takes  the  choice  morsels;  when  two 
of  them  quarrel,  he  bites  both  and  thus  brings  them  to  terms. 

"Generally  there  is  a  second  dog  which  is  inferior  only  to  the  leader,  but 


Fig.  17.     Dog  in  Harness 
(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  p.  432) 


THE    ESKIMO 


49 


The  list  of  Eskimo  weapons  is  incomplete  if  no  mention 
is  made  of  the  bow.  Two  general  types  occur,  one  of 
wood,  the  other  of  reindeer  antlers;  several  varieties  of 


Wooden  bow 


The  three  parts  of  the  bow 


Lower  surface  of  bow,  showing  the  sinew  lashing 

Fig,  1 8 

(Stefansson,  Anthropological  Papers  of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural 

History,  vol.  XIV,  Part  I,  p.  86) 


in    different    localities.      The    wooden    bow 
one    piece    of    wood,    or    of    several    pieces 


each  occur 
consists  of 
joined  together  (see  drawing) 


In  either  case  the  bow  is 


is  feared  by  all  the  others.  Though  the  authority  of  the  leader  is  not  dis- 
puted by  his  own  team,  dogs  of  another  team  will  not  submit  to  him.  But 
•when  two  teams  are  accustomed  to  travel  in  company  the  dogs  in  each  will 
have  some  regard  for  the  leader  of  the  other,  though  continuous  rivalry 
and  quarrels  go  on  between  the  two  leaders.  Almost  any  dog  which  is 
harnessed  into  a  strange  team  will  at  first  be  unwilling  to  draw,  and  it  is 
only  when  he  is  thoroughly  accustomed  to  all  his  neighbors  and  has 
found  out  his  friends  and  his  enemies  that  he  will  do  his  work  satisfactorily. 
Some  dogs  when  put  into  a  strange  team  will  throw  themselves  down  and 
struggle  and  howl.  They  will  endure  the  severest  lashing  and  allow  them- 
selves to  be  dragged  along  over  rough  ice  without  being  induced  to  rise  and 
run  along  with  the  others.  Particularly  if  their  own  team  is  in  sight  will 
they  turn  back  and  try  to  get  to  it.  Others,  again,  are  quite  willing  to  work 
with  strange  dogs. 

"Partly  on  this  account  and  partly  from  attachment  to  their  masters,  dogs 
■old  out  of  one  team  frequently  return  to  their  old  homes,  and  I  know  of 
instances  in  which  they  even  ran  from  thirty  to  sixty  miles  to  reach  it. 
Sometimes  they  do  so  when  a  sledge  is.  traveling  for  a  few  days  from  one 
settlement  to  another,  the  dogs  not  having  left  home  for  a  long  time  before. 
In  such  cases  when  the  Eskimo  go  to  harness  their  team  in  the  morning 
they  find  that  some  of  them  have  run  away,  particularly  those  which  were 
lent  from  another  team  for  the  journey.  In  order  to  prevent  this  the  left 
fore  leg  is  sometimes  tied  up  by  a  loop  which  passes  over  the  neck.  When 
one  is  on  a  journey  it  is  well  to  do  so  every  night,  as  some  of  the  dogs  are 
rather  unwilling  to  be  harnessed  in  the  morning,  thus  causing  a  great  loss 
of  time  before  they  are  caught.  In  fact  such  animals  are  customarily  tied 
up  at  night,  while  the  others  are  allowed  to  run  loose. 


so 


EARLY    CIVILIZATION 


reinforced  by  numerous  lines  of  sinew,  the  result  being  a 
very  powerful  weapon.  Of  antler  bows  two  kinds  are  rep- 
resented here. 


Fig.  20 
(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  p.  503) 

In  both  cases  the  bow  consists  of  three  pieces  of  antler.  In 
Fig.  19  there  is  a  stout  central  piece  (a)  slanted  at  both  ends, 
to  which  the  other  two  pieces  (b)  are  riveted.  The  bow  is 
reinforced  by  sinews,  like  the  wooden  variety,  and  the  joints 
are  secured  by  strong  strings  (c)  wound  around  them.  In 
Fig  20  the  central  piece  (d)  is  not  slanted  but  cut  off 
straight.  The  joint  on  either  side  is  secured  by  two  addi- 
tional pieces  of  bone,  a  short  stout  one  outside  (e),  which 
prevents  the  sections  from  breaking  apart,  and  a  long  thin 
one  inside  (/) ,  which  provides  the  needed  resiliency. 

Before  the  introduction  of  fire  arms,  the  bow  and  arrow 


"Sometimes  the  harnesses  are  not  taken  off  at  night.  As  some  dogs  are 
in  the  habit  of  stripping  off  their  harness,  it  is  fastened  by  tying  the  trace 
around  the  body.  Though  all  these  peculiarities  of  the  dogs  give  a  great 
deal  of  trouble  to  the  driver,  he  must  take  care  not  to  punish  them  too 
severely,  as  they  will  then  become  frightened  and  for  fear  of  the  whip 
will  not  work  at  all." 

(P-  537)  "If  two  persons  are  on  the  sledge — and  usually  two  join  for  a 
long  drive — they  must  not  speak  to  each  other,  for  as  soon  as  the  dogs  hear 
them  they  will  stop,  turn  around,  sit  down,  and  listen  to  the  conversation." 

"If  any  dog  of  the  team  is  lazy  the  driver  calls  out  his  name  and  he  is 
lashed,  but  it  is  necessary  to  hit  the  dog  called,  for  if  another  is  struck  he 
feels  wronged  and  will  turn  upon  the  dog  whose  name  has  been  called; 
the  leader  enters  into  the  quarrel,  and  soon  the  whole  pack  is  huddled  up 
in  one  howling  and  biting  mass,  and  no  amount  of  lashing  and  beating  will 
separate  the  fighting  team.  The  only  thing  one  can  do  is  to  wait  until  their 
wrath  has  abated  and  to  clear  the  traces." 

These  paragraphs  from  dog  pedagogy  seem  to  be  as  instructive  as  they 
are  entertaining. 


THE    ESKIMO 


51 


were  indispensable  in  hunting  the  reindeer,  musk  ox  and 
polar  bear,  and  they  are  still  used  by  many  tribes. 

An  important  tool  for  ivory  and  bone  work  next  deserves 
attention :  the  drill  ( Fig.  21).  This  implement  is  of  especial 
interest,  as  it  is  also  used  for  making  fire. 

The  drill  consists  of  three  parts:  the  shaft  made  of 
iron  (since  the  introduction  of  this  metal  by  the  whites),-' 
the  mouthpiece  (b),  made  of  wood  or  bone,  and  the  bow 
{c),  made  of  bone.  When  the  drill  is  in  use  the  mouthpiece 
(b)  is  taken  between  the  teeth  and  held  firmly,  then  the 
point  of  the  drill  is  set  against  the  place  to  be  perforated, 
and  the  bow  is  moved  to  and  fro  by  both  hands;  as  one 
string  winds,  the  other  automatically  unwinds.  Thus  a 
continuous  revolution  of  the  point  is  secured,  and  the  hole 
is  quickly  made.  When  the  drill  is  used  for  making  fire, 
hard  wood  (ground  willow)  is  substituted  for  the  iron  shaft 
(a),  which  is  made  to  revolve  against  a  piece  of  driftwood 


Fig.  21 
(Boas,  "The  Central  Eskimo,"  p.  526) 


52  EARLY   CIVILIZATION 

(d).  Presently  the  driftwood  begins  to  glow.  Against  the 
glowing  wood  a  little  moss  is  next  applied,  which  after  some 
gentle  blowing  begins  to  burn. 


Such,  then,  are  the  economic  conditions  of  the  Eskimo 
and  some  of  their  industrial  achievements. 

It  will  be  admitted  that  the  Eskimo  have  solved  their 
environmental  problem  in  masterly  fashion.  When  the  first 
Eskimo  tribes  struck  the  forbidding  conditions  of  the  arctic 
the  struggle  must  have  been  intense.  For  a  long  time  sur- 
vival itself  must  have  wavered  in  the  balance.  Why  these 
original  tribes  should  have  remained,  why  they  did  not  move 
on  until  milder  surroundings  were  found,  we  cannot  say. 
The  fact  is,  they  did  remain.  Menace  after  menace  was 
met  in  turn :  the  cold,  the  snow  and  storm,  the  darkness,  the 
paucity  of  materials.  When  the  victory  of  mind  over  na- 
ture was  achieved,  a  civilization  had  been  brought  into  be- 
ing which  had  few  rivals  as  an  adjustment.  Having  solved 
its  problem  so  successfully,  it  remained  duly  conservative, 
strangely  immune  to  foreign  influences,  and  remarkably 
uniform  throughout  the  enormous  range  of  Eskimo  tribes. 
They  have  moved  along  the  frozen  shores,  penetrating  but 
little  into  the  interior,  apparently  preferring  to  remain  in 
an  environment  where  their  hard  won  successes  continued  to 
serve  them  well  and  no  basic  readjustments  were  required. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  OF  NORTHWEST 
AMERICA 

The  Indian  tribes  inhabiting  the  shores  of  British  Co- 
lumbia, Vancouver  Island,  Queen  Charlotte  Islands,  the 
Prince  of  Wales  Islands  and  southern  Alaska,  have  devel- 
oped a  distinctive  set  of  civilizational  features.  This  entire 
region  is  classed  by  American  ethnologists  as  a  separate 
culture  area  designated  as  the  Northwest  Coast.  This  cul- 
ture is  most  clearly  represented  by  the  Tlingit  and  Haida. 
They  share  almost  all  of  their  cultural  traits  with  their 
Tsimshian  speaking  neighbors,  while  the  Kwakiutl,  further 
south,  having  developed  from  a  common  cultural  stratum, 
display  a  number  of  individualized  traits. 

The  Tlingit  and  Haida  speaking  tribes  are  hunters  and 
fishermen.  While  the  men  are  devoted  to  these  pursuits, 
the  women  gather  a  variety  of  wild  berries.  The  men  hunt 
the  land  animals  as  well  as  the  mammals  of  the  sea,  such  as 
the  whale,  killer-whale,  and  seal,  and  they  catch  the  fish  along 
the  shores  of  the  ocean  and  in  the  rivers.  The  fishing  meth- 
ods employed  are  many  and  varied.  The  bow  and  arrow 
are  commonly  used  for  striking  the  fish  while  they  shoot 
through  the  water.  A  great  variety  of  nets,  wicker  baskets 
and  hedges  are  employed  for  catching  fish  in  the  streams, 
and  when  the  salmon  go  up  the  rivers  in  huge  shoals,  their 
quantity  is  so  great  that  they  can  be  caught  with  baskets. 

There  is  no  pottery  made  in  this  region  nor  is  there  any 
agriculture,  except  in  the  form  of  garden  culture  among  the 
Kwakiutl,  whose  women  cultivate  patches  of  clover,  with- 
out, however,  using  the  seed  of  the  plant  for  sowing.  Bar- 
ring the  dog,  domestic  animals  are  unknown.  The  Haida 
and  the  tribes  further  south  are  not  proficient  at  basketry, 

53 


54  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

and  little  of  it  is  made.  The  Tlingit,  on  the  other  hand, 
make  excellent  twine  baskets.  Work  in  shell  and  mountain- 
goat  horn  occurs  in  abundance,  the  Haida  spoons  made  out 
of  the  latter  material  having  reached  a  high  degree  of  per- 
fection in  technique  and  elaboration.  Clothing  of  skin  is 
worn  as  well  as  a  large  basket  hat.  The  feet  are  usually 
bare,  although  leggings  and  moccasins  of  skin  are  also 
known.  One  of  the  Tlingit  tribes,  the  Chilkat,  weave  a 
blanket  of  soft  cedar  bark  and  mountain-goat  wool.  When 
at  work  on  these  blankets,  the  women  use  no  loom,  but  do 
the  weaving  with  their  fingers.  Small  sections  of  a  blanket 
are  finished  separately  and  are  then  sewed  together. 

The  principal  industry  of  the  entire  Northwest  is  wood 
work,  and  the  trees  used  more  than  any  others  are  the  red 
and  yellow  cedar.  These  are  used  for  the  walls  of  their 
large  gable-roofed  houses,  the  walls  consisting  of  perpendi- 
cular planks.  In  view  of  the  great  difficulty  involved  in  fell- 
ing large  trees  with  the  stone  axes  employed,  these  planks, 
at  least  in  olden  times,  were  split  from  the  standing  tree  by 
means  of  a  somewhat  complicated  method  requiring  the 
use  of  wedges.  Whole  trunks  of  cedar  are  used  for  the 
great  hunting  and  war  canoes,  the  inside  of  the  trunk  being 
partly  hollowed  out  with  axes  and  partly  burnt.  In  place  of 
pots,  cedar  boxes  are  used,  the  four  walls  of  a  box  being 
fashioned  out  of  one  piece  of  wood  bent  into  the  shape  re- 
quired, while  the  solitary  juncture  is  sewn  together  with  bark 
string,  the  so-called  disappearing  stitch  being  often  em- 
ployed. Dishes,  large  and  small,  settees,  masks,  ladles  and 
cradles  are  also  made  of  wood,  as  well  as  great  carved  totem 
poles  and  memorial  columns.  The  soft  inner  bark  of  the 
cedar  is  worked  into  mats  which  are  sometimes  used  for 
clothing;  ceremonial  paraphernalia  and  forehead  bands  are 
also  made  of  this  material.  It  has  been  said,  with  justice, 
that  a  great  part  of  the  economic  life  and  industry  of  these 
people  centers  around  the  cedar  and  the  salmon :  wood  is  as 
important  in  Northwest  industry  as  salmon  is  in  their  diet. 

The  population  of  the  Northwest  Coast  is  divided  into 


I 


THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  55 

three  classes,  the  nobles,  commoners  and  slaves.  The  com- 
moners constitute  the  main  body  of  the  people.  Through 
personal  distinction  in  war  or  by  giving  one  or  more  great 
feasts,  a  commoner  may  gain  access  to  the  nobility.  The 
class  of  nobles  furnishes  the  chiefs,  whose  office  is  usually 
hereditary  for  at  least  several  generations.  The  slaves, 
most  of  whom  are  prisoners  of  war,  do  not  form  part  of  the 
social  organization  proper.  While  the  master  has  absolute 
right  of  life  and  death  over  his  slave,  the  economic  position 
and  daily  life  of  the  latter  does  not  greatly  differ  from  that 
of  his  owner.  The  slaves  live  in  the  houses  with  the  other 
people,  they  eat  with  them,  work,  hunt  and  make  war  on  a 
par  with  the  others.  It  is  only  on  occasions  where  social 
prestige  and  ceremonial  prerogatives  are  involved  that  the 
disabilities  of  the  slave  become  conspicuous.  In  ancient  days 
there  was  a  custom  of  sacrificing  a  slave  at  the  erection  of  a 
house.  The  slave  was  buried  alive  under  one  of  the  sup- 
porting poles  of  the  new  structure,  and  to' commemorate  this 
event,  an  inverted  figure  of  a  man  was  represented  as  be- 
ing devoured  by  one  of  the  animals  carved  on  the  pole. 

The  social  organization  proper  is  identical  in  principle 
among  the  Tlingit  and  the  Haida,  and  the  former  may  be 
used  as  an  example.  There  are  two  main  social  divisions 
or  phratries,  the  Raven  and  the  Wolf,  whose  main  function 
is  to  control  intermarriage — no  marriage  being  permitted 
within  a  phratry.  There  is  also  a  third  social  division,  a 
much  smaller  one,  represented  in  only  one  locality,  with 
which  both  of  the  phratries  may  intermarry.  Descent  is 
maternal,  the  children  belonging  to  the  phratry  of  the 
mother.  The  phratries  are  further  subdivided  into  clans, 
of  which  the  Raven  phratry  contains  twenty-eight  and  the 
Wolf  phratry,  twenty-six.  These  clans  have  local  names, 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  originally  the  clans  con- 
stituted local  divisions  or  villages.  Even  today  the  local 
character  of  these  social  units  is  pronounced;  thus,  of  the 
Wolf  clans,  one  is  prominently  represented  in  four  local  divi- 
sions or  villages,  two  clans  in  three  villages,  and  one  in  two. 


56  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

The  remaining  twenty-one  clans  are  largely  restricted  to  one 
village.  Of  the  Raven  clans,  one  is  prominent  in  four  vil- 
lages, one  in  three  and  one  in  two,  while  the  remaining 
twenty-five  clans  are  in  the  main  restricted  to  one  village. 

In  addition  to  controlling  intermarriage,  the  major  divi- 
sions or  phratries  have  certain  functions,  which  may  be  de- 
signated as  reciprocal;  thus,  the  members  of  the  two  phra- 
tries assist  each  other  at  burials  of  their  members  and  at  the 
building  of  houses,  while  among  the  Tlingit  the  principal 
feast,  or  potlatch,  of  the  year  is  given  by  individuals  or 
groups  of  one  phratry  to  those  of  the  other.^ 

As  a  consequence  of  the  exogamic  functions  of  the  phra- 
try, the  clans,  which  are  its  subdivisions,  are  also  exoga- 
mous,  that  is,  no  two  members  of  a  clan  may  intermarry. 
Strictly  speaking,  however,  these  matrimonial  concerns  are 
the  business  not  of  the  clan,  but  of  the  phratry.  The  clan, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  in  the  main  a  ceremonial  unit,  distin- 
guished by  a  variety  of  partly  hereditary  prerogatives. 
Every  clan  owns  its  special  ceremonial  features,  including 
dances  and  cries  and  ritualistic  paraphernalia.  But  the  most 
cherished  prerogative  of  a  clan  is  the  right  to  use  as  its 
crest  a  particular  animal,  bird  or  supernatural  creature; 
most  of  the  Haida  clans  use  several  of  these.  The  crest 
or  crests  may  then  be  carved  on  the  totem  poles  and  me- 
morial columns  owned  by  the  families  or  individuals  com- 
prised in  the  clan.  Crests,  in  whole  or  in  part,  are  also 
carved  on  boxes  and  ladles,  or  painted  on  the  sides  of 
canoes,  the  front  walls  of  houses,  as  well  as  on  the  faces 
of  individual  clan  members.  Members  of  each  clan  tell  a 
story  of  how  a  human  ancestor  of  the  clan  came  into  inti- 


^It  is  interesting  to  note  the  differentiation  in  custom  between  these  two 
neighboring  tribes  so  intimately  related  in  culture.  Among  the  Haida  a 
potlatch  may  be  given  to  a  member  or  group  of  the  opposite  phratry,  but 
the  main  potlatch  of  the  year  is  always  given  to  members  of  the  same 
phratry.  Among  the  Tlingit,  on  the  other  hand,  a  potlatch  is  an  inter- 
phratry  affair.  The  Tlingit,  in  fact,  feel  very  keenly  on  this  subject.  To 
have  a  potlatch  given  to  one  is  to  be  placed  under  very  serious  obligation, 
argue  the  Tlingit;  it  is,  therefore,  distinctly  in  bad  taste  to  inflict  such  a  feast 
upon  members  of  one's  own  phratry,  most  of  whom  are  close  relatives  of 
the  giver  of  the  feast. 


THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  57 

mate  association  with  the  animal,  bird  or  supernatural 
creature  which  thenceforth  became  the  crest  of  the  clan. 

Thus,  the  people  of  a  Tlingit  clan  with  the  frog  as  its 
crest,  tell  of  an  ancestral  individual  who  kicked  a  frog  over 
on  its  back.  Presently  he  fell  into  a  swoon  and  his  body  was 
carried  into  the  house.  Meanwhile,  his  soul  was  taken  by 
the  frogs  to  Frog-town  (arranged  after  the  manner  of  hu- 
man towns).  There  the  man's  soul  was  brought  into  the 
presence  of  Chief  Frightful-Face.  The  chief  said  to  the 
man :  "We  belong  to  your  clan  and  it  is  a  shame  that  you 
should  treat  your  own  people  as  you  have  done.  You  bet- 
ter go  to  your  own  village.  You  have  disgraced  yourself 
as  well  as  us,  for  this  woman  belongs  to  your  own  clan." 
After  this  the  man  left  Frog-town  and  at  the  same  time  his 
body  at  home  came  to.  He  told  the  people  of  his  adventure. 
All  the  people  of  his  clan  were  listening  to  what  this  man 
said,  and  It  Is  because  the  frog  himself  said  that  he  was  a 
member  of  that  clan  that  they  claim  the  frog. 

Another  Tlingit  clan  that  owns  the  grizzly  bear  crest  tells 
the  story  of  a  hunter  who  was  caught  in  a  bear's  den.  He 
found  favor  with  the  bear's  wife,  whereupon  the  male  bear 
left  and  the  man  married  the  she-bear  and  had  children  by 
her.  Finally,  he  is  discovered  by  his  younger  brother  to 
whose  entreaties  that  he  return  home,  he  replies:  "Stand 
right  there  I  Don't  do  any  harm.  I  am  here.  Although  I 
am  with  this  wild  animal,  I  am  living  well.  Don't  worry 
about  me  any  more."  When  he  was  first  taken  to  the  den,  it 
looked  like  a  den  and  nothing  more;  but  that  night  he 
thought  he  was  In  a  fine  house  with  people  all  about  eating 
supper,  and  his  wife  looked  to  him  like  a  human  being. 
Later  he  returns  to  the  village,  but  abstains  from  all  contact 
with  his  human  wife,  spending  his  time  hunting,  at  which  he 
is  very  successful.  During  one  of  the  hunts  he  meets  his  bear 
children  to  whom  he  gives  the  seals  he  has  caught.  Hence- 
forth he  feeds  them  regularly.  His  human  wife  detects  this 
and  protests  against  his  feeding  the  bear  cubs  rather  than 
her  little  ones.    He  submits  and  begins  to  feed  her  children. 


58  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

But  presently  he  goes  hunting  again  and  once  more  takes 
some  seals  to  his  cubs.  As  he  approaches  them  in  his  boat, 
he  notes  that  they  do  not  act  as  usual.  Instead,  they  lie  flat 
on  the  ground  with  their  ears  erect.  Then  he  lands,  but 
when  he  comes  near  them  they  kill  him.  It  is  on  this  ac- 
count that  the  people  of  his  clan  claim  the  grizzly  bear  as 
their  crest. 

Although  the  clans  are  maternal  as  well  as  the  phratries, 
the  position  of  women  in  these  communities  is  not  high. 
They  are  deprived  of  most  ceremonial  prerogatives  and  fig- 
ure but  inconspicuously  in  the  important  series  of  customs 
clustering  about  the  belief  in  guardian  spirits.^ 

Passing  to  the  economic  ideas  of  the  Northwest,  we  find 
them  as  well  developed  as  are  the  principles  imderlying 
their  social  organization.  Property,  both  of  material  and 
spiritual  kind,  abounds.  Individuals,  families  and  clans 
own  tools,  garments,  ceremonial  paraphernalia,  songs,  sto- 
ries, cries  and  crests.  Many  of  these  may  be,  and  often  are 
passed  down  by  inheritance,  either  as  a  clan  or  family  pre- 
rogative or  as  a  possession  of  an  individual,  willed  to  his  or 
her  heirs. 

Interesting  are  the  developments  of  communal  property 
rights.  Strips  of  shore  along  the  ocean  front  as  well  as 
along  the  course  of  rivers  are  owned  by  families  and  clans 
as  fishing  properties.  The  same  is  true  of  localities  in  the 
hills  and  valleys  in  which  mountain-goats  are  hunted.     The 


^Further  details  about  these  interesting  customs  will  be  found  in  the 
section  on  "The  Guardian  Spirit  in  American  Indian  Religion,"  pp.  184-193. 

It  is  of  interest  to  note  in  this  connection  that  the  relatively  inferior  posi- 
tion of  woman  is  here  associated  with  the  maternal  organization  of  descent 
and  of  the  inheritance  of  property.  This  fact  contrasts  strikingly  with  the 
conditions  obtaining  among  the  Iroquoian  speaking  tribes  of  the  East,  among 
whom  the  female  tracing  of  descent  and  the  equitable  position  of  woman  in 
connection  with  the  ownership  and  inheritance  of  property  is  associated  with 
a  very  high  degree  of  social  and  political  prominence  of  woman.  When  in 
very  recent  times  the  custom  of  blood  revenge  among  the  Indian  tribes  was 
checked  and  a  fine  substituted,  this  diflference  of  valuation  of  woman 
on  the  part  of  the  two  groups  of  tribes  did  not  fail  to  express  itself,  for 
among  the  tribes  of  the  Northwest,  the  penalty  for  the  killing  of  a  woman 
was  only  one-half  in  amount  of  that  imposed  for  the  killing  of  a  man, 
whereas  among  the  Iroquoian  tribes,  the  reverse  was  the  case — the  penalty 
for  killing  a  woman  was  double  of  that  exacted  for  the  killing  of  a  man. 


THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  59 

Kwakiutl  employ  the  following  method  to  define  a  fishing  ter- 
ritory. From  two  prominent  points  along  the  shore,  imag- 
inary lines  are  drawn  to  an  island  some  distance  from  the 
mainland.  Within  the  space  thus  enclosed  by  the  two  lines 
and  the  shore,  a  clan  claims  fishing  privileges. 

It  must  not  be  imagined,  however,  that  this  development 
of  proprietory  ideas  stands  for  distinction  of  economic 
status  among  individuals.  There  is  but  the  dimmest  fore- 
shadowing of  a  possible  division  into  rich  and  poor.  All 
live  in  about  the  same  way.  The  noble  and  the  commoner, 
the  slave  and  his  master,  share  in  the  same  work  and  enjoy 
approximately  the  same  comforts  and  pleasures.  As  will 
presently  be  seen,  huge  amounts  of  property  do  often  ac- 
cumulate in  the  hands  of  an  individual  or  in  a  family  or  clan. 
This  property,  however,  is  not  valuable  in  itself  as  riches, 
nor  does  it  buy  comforts,  luxuries,  or  the  services  of  other 
men.    Its  value  is  in  the  social  prestige  that  goes  with  it. 

The  clearest  expression  of  this  form  6f  socio-economic 
valuation  may  be  seen  in  the  institution  of  the  potlach. 
The  potlatch  is  a  feast  given  by  an  individual  to  another 
individual,  or  by  one  family  or  clan  to  another.  On  the 
occasion  of  these  feasts,  which  are  often  attended  by  an 
impressive  gathering  of  people,  the  feast  giver  presents  his 
guests  with  blankets,  canoes,  oil  and  other  valuables.  Also, 
a  great  deal  of  property  is  destroyed  outright  on  these  oc- 
casions. Huge  quantities  of  the  precious  seal  oil,  for  ex- 
ample, are  burned.  The  more  sumptuous  the  presents  given 
away,  the  more  lavish  the  destruction  of  property,  the 
greater  is  the  feast  and  the  higher  the  esteem  that  accrues  to 
the  feast  giver,  while  the  rival  to  whom  the  feast  is  given  is 
correspondingly  debased  in  social  status.  To  regain  popular 
favor,  the  latter  must  give  a  feast  in  return,  in  which  case 
he  may  or  may  not  be  supported  by  his  friends  and  relatives. 
The  presents  given  away  on  the  occasion  of  the  first  feast 
must  now  be  returned  with  interest,  which,  if  the  return 
feast  has  been  delayed  for  a  long  time,  may  amount  to  one 
hundred  per  cent,  or  even  more.    The  amount  of  property 


6o 


EARLY    CIVILIZATION 


destroyed  must  be  correspondingly  large.  After  this  is 
achieved,  the  giver  of  the  return  feast  not  only  regains  his 
social  prestige,  but  greatly  enhances  it  at  the  expense  of  his 
rival. 

In  connection  with  the  potlatch,  the  so-called  "coppers" 
have  come  into  use.  A  copper  is  hammered  out  of  native 
copper,  or  a  sheet  of  the  metal  left  by  an  agent  of  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company  may  be  used  for  the  purpose.  It 
looks  like  this: 

The  intrinsic  value  of  a  copper  is  nil, 
its  symbolic  value  may  rise  very  high. 
These  coppers  are  given  away  at 
feasts  and  the  value  of  the  copper  is 
rated  in  proportion  to  the  munificence 
of  the  feast  at  which  it  figures. 
When,  in  the  course  of  time,  it  is  re- 
turned to  the  original  owner  at  an- 
other feast,  its  value  rises  in  propor- 
tion. Thus  it  comes  about  that  some 
of  the  coppers  are  worth  hundreds  or 
even  thousands  of  blankets  (a  blanket 
passes  as  the  unit  of  value  amounting 
to  about  fifty  cents) .  The  coppers  are 
distinguished  by  names  corresponding 
to  their  high  ceremonial  significance, 
such  as  "All-Other-Coppers-Are- 
Ashamed-to-Look-At-It"  (this  specimen  was  worth  seventy- 
five  hundred  blankets),  "Steel-head-Salmon"  (six  thousand 
blankets),  "Making-the-House-Empty-of-Blankets"  (five 
thousand  blankets),  and  so  on.  A  broken  copper  is  more 
valuable  than  a  whole  one.  Thus,  as  a  copper  passes  from 
hand  to  hand,  certain  parts  of  it  are  broken  off  and  given 
away  with  the  rest  oi  the  copper,  until  only  the  T-shaped 
section  is  left,  which  is  its  most  valuable  part,  amounting  to 
about  two-thirds  of  its  value.  A  chief  may  break  a  copper 
and  present  it  to  his  rival  at  a  feast.  Then  the  challenged 
chief  may  take  his  own  copper,  break  it,  and  return  both 


Fig.  22 
(Boas,  "The  Social  Or- 
ganization and  the  Secret 
Societies  of  the  KwakiutI 
Indians,"  Report,  U.  S. 
National  Museum,  1895.) 


THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  6i 

broken  coppers  to  the  original  owner  at  the  ensuing  feast, 
thereby  regaining  his  prestige.  Instead,  he  may  throw  the 
pieces  of  both  broken  coppers  into  the  ocean.  Then  he  is 
esteemed  a  truly  great  man,  for  no  possible  returns  can  be 
expected  from  this  process,  whereas  the  original  chief  might 
well  have  counted  on  the  return  of  the  broken  coppers.^ 

The  essence  of  social  position  among  these  people 
rests  on  these  feasts.  "Rivals  fight  with  property  alone," 
says  the  Kwakiutl,  and  the  best  way  to  humiliate  a  rival  is 
to  "flatten  him  out"  by  means  of  a  sumptuous  feast.^ 

It  must  be  remembered  that  even  a  prominent  chief  can 
but  seldom  afford  to  give  a  potlatch  alone,  on  account  of 
the  vast  quantities  of  property  involved,  but  he  is  assisted 
by  his  family  or  clan  or  friends.  It  may  thus  occur  that  the 
greater  amount  of  the  property  of  a  clan  may  change  hands 
on  occasion  of  a  great  feast.  Property  here  is  in  a  constant 
flux.  It  is  given  away  and  destroyed  in  astounding  quan- 
tities, and  as  property  goes,  the  social  prestige  of  the  giver 
rises,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  The  value  of  property  is  es- 
timated in  terms  of  social  prestige  which  comes  to  the  owner 
when  he  gives  away  his  property.^ 


^This  illustration  as  well  as  the  examples  of  copper  names  are  taken 
from  the  Kwakiutl. 

'Strange  as  these  ideas  may  appear  to  the  modern  mind,  they  are  not  by 
any  means  foreign  to  our  socio-economic  life.  While  the  economic  distinc- 
tions current  in  our  society  are  unknown  among  these  Indian  tribes,  the 
"conspicuous  waste"  (to  speak  with  Mr.  Veblen)  attendant  upon  expenditure 
of  property  among  our  rich,  presents  a  close  parallel  to  the  potlach  psychol- 
ogy of  the  Haida  and  Tlingit. 

'The  marriage  institution  among  the  Kwakiutl  well  illustrates  the  in- 
fluence that  one  aspect  of  civilization  may  exercise  upon  another.  When  a 
man  wants  to  marry  a  girl,  he  gives  his  father-in-law  a  considerable 
amount  of  property,  in  return  for  which  he  expects  to  receive  not  only  his 
■wife,  but  many  privileges  of  her  clan,  including  the  crest  itself.  The  wife 
is  thus  regarded  as  the  first  instalment  of  the  return  payment  on  the  part 
of  the  father-in-law.  Then,  as  children  are  born  to  the  couple,  further 
payments  are  made  by  the  father-in-law  and  the  more  children,  the  higher 
the  interest  on  these  payments;  for  one  child,  two  hundred  per  cent  interest 
is  paid,  for  two  or  more  children,  three  hundred  per  cent.  After  this,  the 
wife's  father  has  redeemed  his  daughter  and  the  marriage  is  regarded  as 
annulled.  Thenceforth,  she  may  return  to  her  parents.  If,  however,  she 
continues  to  stay  with  her  husband,  she  does  so  of  her  own  free  will ;  she 
18  "staying  in  the  house  for  nothing,"  say  the  Kwakiutl.  The  husband  is 
usually  unwilling  to  stake  the  continuance  of  his  matrimonial  relationship 
on  the  disposition  of  his   wife,   and  makes   another  payment  to  his   father- 


62  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

The  religious  and  cosmological  ideas  of  the  Coast  people 
are  elaborate  but  can  only  be  touched  upon  briefly  here.^ 

The  Haida  believe  that  the  earth  is  flat  and  has  a  circular 
outline.  Above  it,  like  an  inverted  bowl,  hangs  the  solid 
firmament,  on  the  top  of  which  is  the  sky  country  in  which 
some  of  the  supernatural  beings  reside.  There  are  five  such 
sky  countries,  one  above  the  other,  but  they  play  but  a  slight 
part  in  Haida  religious  beliefs,  in  contrast  to  what  is  true 
among  the  Salish  speaking  Bella  Coola  of  the  coast,  for 
among  the  latter  the  several  sky  countries  are  clearly  de- 
fined and  greatly  elaborated  in  their  mythology.^  On  the 
lower  side  of  the  firmament,  the  sun,  moon,  stars  and  clouds 
are  fastened.  Beneath  the  firmament  stretches  the  sea  and 
upon  it  lie  two  islands,  the  Inland-Country  or  Haida-Land, 
and  the  Seaward-Country  or  Mainland.  The  Haida  country, 
although  floating  upon  the  sea,  is  also  supported  by  a  great 
supernatural  being,  The-Sacred-One-Standing-and-Moving. 
This  supernatural  being  rests  upon  a  copper  box,  which  is  it- 
self supported  in  some  undefined  way. 

The  highest  of  all  deities  is  Power-of-the-Shining-Heav- 
ens.  Just  as  human  beings  receive  "power"  from  lower 
supernatural  beings,  and  these  receive  theirs  from  higher 
ones,  so  the  latter  obtain  their  power  from  Power-of-the- 
Shining-Heavens.^ 

Suspended  in  the  air,  hang  several  abodes  of  supernatural 
beings.  In  one  of  these,  called  Shaman's  House,  live  the 
Above-People.  They  are  thought  by  some  to  be  no  taller 
than  a  man's  hand  and  wrist.     Although  kindly  and  help- 


in-law  to  have  a  further  claim  upon  her.  This  peculiar  mode  of  treating 
marriage,  while  incomprehensible  if  taken  alone,  becomes  clarified  in  the 
light  of  potlatch  psychology. 

'The  statements  in  the  following  section  on  religion  refer  more  specifically 
to  the  Haida,  unless  the  contrary  is  stated. 

'See  p.  207  sq. 

*Swanton,  who  has  spent  considerable  time  among  the  Haida,  expresses 
his  surprise  at  the  lofty  conception  underlying  this  deity.  Although  those 
of  the  Indians  who  have  heard  of  the  Christian  God  are  wont  to  compare 
the  supreme  divinity  of  white  man  with  Power-of-the-Shining-Heavcn9, 
Swanton  holds  the  opinion  that  the  latter  conception  is  not  due  to  missionary 
influence.  One  thinks  in  this  connection  of  the  AH  Father  of  Auatraliaa 
mythology,  and  of  other  similar  notions  (compare  p.  211). 


THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  63 

ful,  they  are  not  very  powerful  on  account  of  their  small 
size,  and  often  fail  in  their  attempts  to  help  man.  The 
Above-People  have  no  chief  of  their  own,  but  Wigit  (prob- 
ably identical  with  the  Raven),  who  occupies  an  abode  of 
his  own,  has  authority  over  them.  Wigit  keeps  an  account 
of  all  the  people  in  the  islands.  In  his  house  he  has  a  col- 
lection of  sticks  and  when  a  child  is  born,  he  turns  around 
and  pulls  one  from  a  bundle  behind  him.  If  the  stick  is 
short,  so  will  be  the  life  of  the  child,  and  vice  versa.  The 
cry  of  every  new  born  child  is  heard  in  the  corner  of  Wigit's 
house. 

Among  the  most  important  supernatural  creatures  with 
whom  the  Haida  were  in  constant  rapport  were  the  Ocean- 
People.  Every  animal  was  or  might  be  the  embodiment  of 
a  supernatural  being  who  could  assume  human  form.  Thus 
animals  and  birds  were,  on  the  one  hand,  hunted  and  used 
as  food  by  man ;  on  the  other,  they  were,  embodiments  of 
supernatural  beings  who  went  by  the  name  of  those  animals, 
assumed  human  form  at  will,  lived  in  towns  of  their  own, 
and  could  inter-marry  with  humans,  help  or  harm  them. 
Among  the  supernatural  Ocean-People  were  the  Devil-Fish- 
People,  the  Porpoise-People,  the  Salmon-People;  but  the 
most  important  of  all  were  the  Killer-Whales.  They  lived 
in  villages,  scattered  along  the  shore,  beneath  it.  The  Kil- 
ler-Whales had  chiefs  of  their  own  and  they  gathered  to 
give  sumptuous  potlatches.  Like  all  supernatural  beings 
they  were  divided  into  two  phratries:  the  Raven  and  the 
Eagle.  Thus,  Raven  Killer-Whales  were  black  all  over, 
while  the  Eagles  had  a  white  patch  around  the  base  of  the 
dorsal  fin.  As  the  Ocean-People  were  in  control  of  a  great 
part  of  the  food  supply  of  the  Indians,  they  were  held  in 
high  esteem  and  were  appealed  to  for  help.  The  rarer 
kinds  of  grease,  tobacco,  and  flicker  feathers  were  offered 
to  them,  water  and  fire  being  the  most  common  media  of 
transmission. 

Among  the  most  important  Land  beings  were  the  so- 
called  Creek-Women,  also  called  Women-at-the-Head,  or 


64  EARLY   CIVILIZATION 

Daughters-of-the-River.  One  of  these  lived  at  the  head  of 
each  creek  and  owned  all  the  fish  in  it.  Like  the  Ocean  peo- 
ple, the  Land  animals  have  a  double  aspect.  On  the  one 
hand,  they  appear  as  animals,  on  the  other,  as  supernatural 
creatures  with  animal  names,  who  may  appear  in  human 
form.  Thus  there  were  the  Grizzly-Bear-People,  the  Black- 
Bear-People,  the  Weasel-People,  and  so  on.  Among  the 
supernatural  animals,  the  Land  Otters,  who  hurt  man  in 
many  ways,  were  greatly  feared.  One  of  their  favorite  pur- 
suits was  to  transform  men  into  monster-like  creatures  with 
bony  faces,  full  of  fish  and  sea-egg  spines,  with  wide  nostrils 
turned  so  high  up  as  to  point  almost  straight  forward,  and 
naked  bodies  covered  with  Land  Otter  hair. 

Other  deities  were  connected  with  human  interests  and 
industries.  Uppermost  among  these  was  the  bird  Skill 
(usual  word  for  "property"),  which  was  never  seen,  but  he 
who  heard  its  bell-like  voice  became  wealthy.  Then  there 
was  Property-Woman,  who  brought  wealth  in  various  ways. 
Almost  as  prominent  as  Property-Woman  were  the  Master- 
Carpenter  and  Master-Canoe-Builder,  guardian  deities  of 
these  crafts.  Then  there  were  other  divinities.  Pestilence, 
Death-by- Violence,  whose  groans  were  heard  by  those  about 
to  be  killed,  and  The-Slave-Power,  whose  presence  was  felt 
by  those  whose  doom  it  was  to  become  enslaved.  There 
were  also  The-Spirit-of-Theft,  The-Strength-Spirit,  The- 
Fishing-Spirit,  and  The-Medicine-Spirit. 

No  sketch  of  Northwest  civilization  is  complete  with- 
out reference  to  their  art,  a  cultural  element  that  has  be- 
come associated  with  almost  all  other  aspects  of  the  life  of 
these  people.  Although  slate,  boae  and  mountain-goat  horn 
appear  as  industrial  materials  in  addition  to  wood,  the  main 
elements  of  Northwest  Coast  art  have  developed  in  conjunc- 
tion with  their  wood  industry.  As  will  presently  be  shown, 
even  the  woven  technique  of  the  Chilkat  blanket  has  failed 
to  produce  an  art  of  its  own,  but  follows  patterns  provided 
by  the  wood  technique. 

The  principal  processes  employed  in  the  art  of  wood, 


THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  6$ 

bone,  slate  and  horn,  are  those  of  painting  and  carving,  both 
in  low  and  high  relief.  Carving  is  applied  to  totem  poles 
and  memorial  columns,  to  dishes,  boxes,  and  spoons,  to 
ceremonial  batons  and  dancing  masks;  while  painting,  in 
addition  to  being  used  on  most  of  the  carved  objects,  also 
appears  on  flat  surfaces,  such  as  the  front  walls  of  houses, 
the  sides  of  the  gigantic  war  canoes  and  the  rims  of  cere- 
monial hats. 

Animals  and  birds  are  most  frequently  represented  in 
this  art,  plants  appear  only  sporadically,  while  the  sun  and 
moon,  in  conventionalized  form,  also  occur.  Of  the  ani- 
mals and  fish,  the  beaver,  bear,  killer-whale  and  shark  are 
constantly  seen,  while  of  the  birds,  the  raven,  eagle,  hawk 
and  flicker  are  equally  common. 

It  is  a  general  characteristic  of  Northwest  art,  especially 
in  its  application  to  totem  poles,  that  a  large  part  or  even 
the  whole  of  the  decorated  object  is  covered  by  the  carving. 
At  the  same  time,  an  attempt  is  made  to  represent  as  much 
of  the  particular  creature  used  for  decoration  as  is  tech- 
nically possible. 

It  must  be  noted  that  the  identity  of  the  animal  or  bird 
used  must  never  be  lost  sight  of,  as  these  carvings  or  crests 
are  of  great  religious  significance  to  the  people  In  this  con- 
nection a  system  of  symbolism  has  developed  by  means  of 
which  each  animal  or  bird  can  be  easily  identified.  Thus 
the  eagle  has  a  beak  with  a  point  directed  straight  down- 
ward, the  beak  of  the  hawk  is  curved  inward,  often 
reaching  back  to  the  mouth,  while  the  beak  of  the 
raven  is  straight  and  very  long.  The  beaver  is  symbolized 
by  one  or  all  of  the  following  three  features :  a  cross-hatched 
tail,  two  or  four  large  incisors  and  a  stick  held  in  the  front 
paws.  The  shark  has  a  tall  pointed  forehead  with  three 
crescent-like  shapes  carved  or  painted  on  it  and  a  double 
row  of  large  triangular  teeth.  The  claws  of  the  bear  are 
long,  curved  at  the  ends  and  pointed.  The  killer-whale  has 
the  typical  bifurcated  tail  of  this  species  and  a  large  dorsal 


66  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

fin,  which  appears  on  the  back  in  a  slanting  position,  some- 
times crossed  by  one  or  more  painted  bands. 

In  addition  to  all  these  representations,  faces  of  varying 
sizes,  apparently  human,  appear  on  totem  poles  and  me- 
morial columns  in  all  sorts  of  positions:  between  two  ani- 
mals, or  on  the  back  or  tail  of  one.  These  faces  seem  to 
have  no  place  in  the  general  symbolism  of  the  poles  and 
columns ;  they  are  there  merely  to  fill  in  spaces  which  would 
otherwise  have  remained  undecorated. 

The  carving  on  the  totem  poles  and  memorial  columns  is 
done  in  high  or  in  bas  relief,  the  different  animals  and  birds 
being  represented  one  on  top  of  the  other  or  interlocking  in 
a  variety  of  ways.  A  common  method  of  combining  two 
creatures  is  to  represent  one  as  hugging  the  other  or  as 
swallowing  it,  part  of  one  creature  protruding  from  the 
other's  mouth.  Small  animals,  such  as  frogs,  are  used 
either  to  fill  in  undecorated  spaces  or  as  a  purely  decorative 
motif  repeated  several  times  in  a  certain  portion  of  the 
design. 

The  faces  of  animals  and  birds  which  appear  on  the 
totem  poles  and  memorial  columns  are  all  very  uniform 
and  apparently  human  in  type;  in  many  instances  a  face 
could  not  be  identified  as  belonging  to  a  particular  animal, 
nor  could  an  animal  face  be  distinguished  from  a  human 
one  were  it  not  for  the  presence  of  the  symbols.  Another 
characteristic  of  animal  faces  refers  to  the  position  of  the 
cars,  which  are  always  placed  on  top  of  the  head,  while 
in  human  faces  they  appear  at  the  two  sides. 

While  many  of  the  figures  on  the  totem  poles  and  me- 
morial columns  as  well  as  the  diminutive  carvings  on  the 
Haida  spoons  and  the  somewhat  larger  ones  on  the  masks 
and  ladles  are  often  fairly  realistic,  with  only  traces  of  con- 
ventional transformation,  some  figures  appear  on  all  of 
these  objects  which  are  distinctly  conventionalized.  This 
conventionalization  is  carried  much  further  in  the  carvings 
and  paintings  on  the  sides  of  boxes  and  in  the  paintings  on 
the  fronts  of  houses  and  the  sides  of  canoes.     Here  the 


THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  67 

geometrical  elements  of  the  design  often  become  so  pro- 
nounced that  the  recognition  of  the  animal  represented 
would  be  impossible  if  not  for  the  symbol.  When  finally 
the  symbol  itself  becomes  conventionalized,  as  is  the  case 
with  the  Chilkat  blankets  and  with  some  of  the  boxes,  the 
interpretation  of  the  design  becomes  impossible  unless  one 
happens  to  know  that  a  design  in  the  particular  instance  is 
meant  to  represent  a  certain  animal  or  bird. 

Two  elements  are  characteristic  of  this  aspect  of 
Northwest  art:  the  way  the  animal  body  is  treated 
with  reference  to  conventionalization  and  the  way  the  rep- 
resentations of  the  separate  animals  on  totem  poles  and 
memorial  columns  are  combined  into  a  unified  carving.  The 
conventionalization  of  the  animal  form  is  conceived  in  such 
a  way  that  the  entire  animal  is  not  regarded  as  one  pattern 
to  be  treated  as  a  whole,  but  rather  as  a  set  of  separate 
parts,  head,  legs,  body,  wings,  and  so  on,  each  one  of  which 
becomes  transformed  independently,  the  unity  of  the  ani- 
mal being  preserved  in  the  spacial  relation  to  each  other 
of  the  different  conventionalized  parts.  This  treatment  of 
the  animal  form  makes  the  designs  especially  well  adapted 
to  the  decoration  of  surfaces  of  different  shapes.  Thus, 
one  usually  finds  one  conventionalized  animal  represented 
on  such  an  apparently  unwieldy  object  as  a  ceremonial  baton, 
or  again,  on  the  four  sides  of  a  box. 

Of  the  many  minuter  features  which  might  be  analyzed 
in  a  more  detailed  treatise,  one  deserves  mention  here:  it 
is  an  eye-like  figure  commonly  used  when  the  eye  is  to  be 
represented.  But  even  a  cursory  glance  at  one  of  these 
conventional  designs  suffices  to  reveal  the  fact  that  this 
figure  frequently  occurs  when  no  representation  of  an  eye  is 
intended.  On  inspection  it  appears  that  the  eye-like  design 
is  used  wherever  a  joint  is  to  be  represented.  As  these 
"eyes"  are  often  fairly  large,  leaving  an  undecorated  space 
inside,  the  imagination  of  the  Northwest  artist  is  further 
stimulated  to  decorate  the  inside  of  the  "eye"  with  a  rough 


68  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

indication  of  two  eyes,  a  nose  and  a  mouth,  or  in  some  cases, 
with  a  more  fully  developed  representation  of  a  face. 

All  these  paintings  and  carvings  constitute  the  accomplish- 
ments of  men.  All  men  were  able  to  paint  and  carve  to  a 
degree,  but  experts  were  not  unknown,  and  some  individuals 
who  were  renowned  for  their  skill  also  accepted  work  for 
others.  It  was  mentioned  before  that  the  weaving  of  the 
Chilkat  blankets  was  woman's  work,  but  that  the  designs 
represented  on  these  blankets  were  faithful  copies  of  the 
men-made  patterns  of  the  wood  technique.  Part  of  a  pat- 
tern was  painted  by  a  man  on  a  board,  which  the  woman  used 
as  her  guide  in  weaving  a  blanket.  The  fact  that  the 
weaving  was  done  in  small  sections  which  were  afterwards 
sewn  together,  enabled  her  to  follow  the  painted  design 
with  great  accuracy,  and  the  change  of  technique  in  this 
case  has  exercised  no  visible  effect  on  the  character  of  the 
design. 

Apart  from  its  distinctive  features  as  a  decorative  tech- 
nique, the  art  of  the  Northwest  Coast  appears  as  an  in- 
herent element  of  many  other  phases  of  Northwest  civiliza- 
tion. It  is  intimately  connected  with  the  leading  industry, 
the  wood  technique,  and  reaches  over  to  the  work  on 
bone,  slate  and  horn,  as  well  as  to  the  woven  blankets.  As 
the  carving  and  painting  of  certain  animals,  birds  and  super- 
natural creatures  constitutes  a  prerogative  of  particular  in- 
dividuals, families  and  clans,  the  art  is  ushered  into  the 
innermost  recesses  of  the  social  organization  of  these  people. 
And  insofar  as  carved  objects  and  coppers  with  representa- 
tions of  crests  figure  prominently  at  potlatches,  the 
art  is  also  drawn  into  this  most  characteristic  aspect  of  the 
life  of  the  Coast.  The  creatures  represented  in  the  art 
are  in  themselves  merely  of  economic  significance,  for  the 
natives  do  not  show  any  regard  or  religious  concern  for 
these  animals  and  birds;  but  their  representations  in  the  art 
having  assumed  the  form  of  crests,  become  symbols  of  great 
sanctity,  emblems  of  rank,  of  social  status  and  of  super- 
natural  powers.     The   representation   of   crests   on   cere- 


THE  TLINGIT  AND  HAIDA  69 

monial  objects,  finally,  introduces  these  artistic  creations 
into  the  elaborate  and  emotionally  significant  rituals  of  the 
Indians.  In  the  course  of  the  long  winter  months,  the  na- 
tives spend  many  hours  and  days  surrounded  by  the  artfully 
transformed  objects  and  breathing  the  throbbing  atmo- 
sphere of  sanctity  created  by  them. 

When  envisaged  from  this  standpoint,  the  art  of  this 
region  appears  not  as  art  alone  but  as  a  many-sided  cultural 
symbol,  most  intimately  associated  with  almost  every  aspect 
of  the  life  of  the  people.  It  might  almost  be  said  that  the 
civilization  of  the  Northwest  could  be  reconstructed  on  the 
basis  of  the  direct  and  indirect  suggestions  carried  by  its  art. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE   IROQUOIS   MATRIARCHATE 

The  Iroquois  speaking  tribes  of  northwestern  New  York 
and  southeastern  Canada,  whose  original  provenience  re- 
mains somewhat  doubtful,  occupied  at  the  time  of  the  dis- 
covery of  America  the  area  of  the  Great  Lakes  and  some 
adjoining  regions.  The  tribes  particularly  under  discussion 
were  five  in  number,  the  Mohawk,  Oneida,  Onondaga,  Cay- 
uga and  Seneca.  To  these  must  be  added  the  Tuscarora, 
who  joined  the  League  of  the  Iroquois  in  the  beginning  of 
the  Eighteenth  Century. 

As  In  all  Indian  tribes,  Iroquois  men  were  mighty  hun- 
ters, while  the  women  engaged  in  the  gathering  of  wild 
fruit,  berries  and  barks.  First  and  foremost,  however,  the 
Iroquois  were  agriculturists.  Toward  the  middle  of  the 
Sixteenth  Century,  at  the  time  of  the  occupation  of  their 
territory  by  Jesuit  missionaries,  the  Iroquois  were  already 
found  In  the  possession  of  considerable  skill  in  agri- 
cultural methods.  These  tribes  lived  in  villages  consisting 
of  a  limited  number  of  Long  Houses  built  of  bark  over 
wooden  frames.  These  houses  were  of  Imposing  propor- 
tions, often  harboring  as  many  as  one  hundred  or  more 
individuals.  Bark  was  used  by  the  Iroquois  for  many  other 
purposes.  Their  canoes  were  made  of  this  material  as 
well  as  dishes,  cradles,  spoons  and  articles  of  ceremonial 
apparel.  Later,  wood  partly  replaced  the  bark  in 
industry.  The  Iroquois  made  good  pots  and  wove  mats  and 
other  articles  out  of  cornhusk.  Bone  work  was  also  on  a 
high  level. 

In  the  line  of  art,  there  was  a  sharp  division  between  men 
and  women.  While  men  were  responsible  for  all  the  carv- 
ing in  wood  which  usually  consisted  of  rather  crude,  some- 

70 


THE  IROQUOIS   MATRIARCHATE  71 

what  realistic  representations  of  animals  and  birds,  the 
women  engaged  in  embroidery  of  porcupine  quill,  later  of 
wampum  beads,  which  they  applied  to  shirts  and  moccasins. 
This  technique,  in  which  Iroquois  women  reached  a  very 
high  degree  of  proficiency,  was  characterized  by  the  pre- 
valence of  motifs  from  the  vegetable  kingdom,  branches, 
leaves  and  flowers  in  different  stages  of  development  being 
the  dominant  patterns.  Similar  curvilinear  designs  were 
made  and  similar  patterns  followed  in  their  embroidery  by 
many  neighboring  Algonquin  speaking  tribes. 

The  ceremonial  life  of  the  Iroquois  centered  in  a  number 
of  great  tribal  feasts,  which  divided  the  year  into  regularly 
recurring  periods  of  ceremonial  performance.  These  cere- 
monies were  closely  associated  with  the  economic  pursuits 
of  the  people.  Thus,  in  early  spring  came  the  Strawberry 
Festival,  more  or  less  adjusted  to  the  period  when  these 
berries  were  ripe.  This  was  followed  somewhat  later  by 
the  Bean  and  the  Raspberry  Festivals.  In  the  fall  came  a 
more  prolonged  period  of  festivities,  the  Corn  Festival, 
falling  at  the  time  of  the  ripening  of  the  maize.  And  to- 
ward the  end  of  January,  or  the  beginning  of  February,  the 
great  Mid-Winter  Festival  took  place,  at  which  a  white 
dog  was  sacrificed  by  strangulation. 

The  general  character  of  these  festivals  was  very  uniform. 
They  started  out  with  a  prayer  to  the  Great  Spirit  and  a 
giving  of  thanks  for  their  past  favors  to  the  Corn,  Bean  and 
Squash,  the  "Three  Sisters"  of  Iroquoian  mythology,  "Our 
Mothers."  Then  came  prayers  for  the  continuation  of 
similar  favors  in  the  future.  Followed  performances  by  the 
religious  societies.  The  festivals  were  closed  by  a  less 
formal  period,  lasting  one  or  two  days,  when  the  young  men 
and  women  indulged  in  semi-ceremonial  games  and  dances. 

The  religious  societies  just  referred  to  played  an  impor- 
tant part  in  the  social  and  ceremonial  life  of  the  Iroquois. 
A  number  of  them  are  recorded,  such  as  the  False  Face     / 
Society,  the  Bear,  Buffalo,  Eagle,  and  Dark  Dance  or  Pigmy 
Societies,  the  last  one  consisting  solely  of  women,  excepting 


72  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

only  the  two  singers,  who  were  always  men.  In  addition 
to  these,  each  one  of  the  five  tribes  of  the  League  had  a 
Medicine  Society.  The  principal  function  of  all  these  or- 
ganizations was  medicinal  and  among  the  requirements  for 
joining  them  were  sickness  and  dreaming.  A  man  afflicted 
with  some  disease  might  dream  of  an  animal  associated 
with  one  of  the  societies.  Thereupon  he  consulted  a 
"prophet"  or  "prophetess,"  and  the  interpretation  of  the 
dream  thus  secured  invariably  resulted  in  the  admonition 
to  join  one  or  another  of  the  societies,  the  members  of 
which  were  presently  called  upon  to  visit  the  patient.  He 
was  successfully  cured  by  their  magical  rites,  and  hence- 
forth became  one  of  their  number. 

Undisputed  preeminence  among  the  societies  was  held  by 
the  False  Faces.  The  principal  ceremonial  regalia  of  the 
False  Faces  consisted  of  grotesque  wooden  masks,  elabor- 
ately carved  and  painted,  which  symbolized  the  bodyless, 
headless  Faces,  spirits  which,  according  to  Iroquois  belief, 
haunted  their  forests.  These  Faces  were  originally  hostile 
to  human  beings,  but  were  subsequently  appeased  by  the 
rites  of  the  False  Faces,  the  society  having  been  organized, 
according  to  tradition,  for  the  particular  purpose  of  dealing 
with  the  Faces. 

The  economic  life  of  the  Iroquois  centered  around  their 
agricultural  activities  In  which  women  played  a  leading 
part.  The  ancient  Iroquois,  original  occupants  of  this 
wooded  country,  had  to  prepare  clearings  before  agricul- 
ture could  be  attempted.  With  nothing  but  crude  stone  axes 
as  tools,  this  was  by  no  means  an  easy  undertaking.  The 
following  process  was  commonly  employed.  A  deep  ring 
was  cut  into  the  bark,  encircling  the  trunk.  By  the  follow- 
ing season  the  tree  was  dead  and  partly  dried  up.  Then  fire 
was  used  to  reduce  the  surface  to  charcoal,  and  thus  facili- 
tate the  felling  of  the  tree  by  means  of  axes. 

This  part  of  the  work  was  done  largely  by  men,  the 
women  merely  assisting  by  bringing  pails  of  water  which 
was  thrown  at  the  upper  section  of  the  tree  to  prevent  it 


THE   IROQUOIS   MATRIARCHATE  73 

from  catching  fire.  With  the  work  in  the  fields  woman's 
undisputed  domain  was  ushered  in.  The  superficial  turn- 
ing of  the  soil  by  means  of  a  crude  hoe,  planting,  harvesting 
and  storing  of  the  different  produce,  as  well  as  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  food  for  later  consumption,  was  the  work  of 
women.  In  the  fields  the  women  worked  in  so-called  "bees," 
under  the  supervision  of  overseers  who  were  also  women. 
The  fields  connected  with  a  village  were  thus  cultivated  one 
by  one,  most  of  the  women  of  the  village  participating  in  the 
work  on  all  of  the  fields.  There  were  also  certain  fields  not 
associated  with  the  individual  households  but  claimed  by  the 
village  as  a  whole.  Communism,  to  a  degree,  was  practised 
in  these  early  Iroquoian  communities,  the  excess  supplies  of 
more  favored  families  being  frequently  divided  among  the 
needy  members  of  the  village.  The  produce  of  the  com- 
munal village  fields  was  also  utilized  for  this  purpose,  as 
well  as  for  the  preparation  of  the  foods  required  at  the 
periodic  tribal  festivals,  at  which  huge  quantities  of  edibles 
were  wont  to  be  consumed. 

While  the  economic  activities  of  the  women  were  of  car- 
dinal importance  among  these  people  and  largely  responsible 
for  their  exalted  social  status,  it  is  woman's  social  and  poli- 
tical functions  that  are  of  particular  interest. 

In  order  to  facilitate  the  understanding  of  woman's  share 
in  the  social  functions  of  the  clans,  the  phratries  and  the 
League,  a  brief  sketch  will  now  be  given  of  the  various 
social  units  comprised  in  the  Iroquois  Confederacy. 

In  the  Iroquois  Confederacy,  includmg  the  Tuscarora, 
each  tribe  was  divided  into  two  phratries ;  each  phratry  com- 
prised four  or  more  clans,  and  the  clans  were  again  sub-di- 
vided Into  a  number  of  maternal  families.  The  maternal 
family,  the  smallest  unit  in  Iroquois  society,  consisted  of  a 
head  woman  or  matron,  her  immediate  male  and  female 
descendants,  the  male  and  female  descendants  of  her  female 
descendants,  and  so  on.  Some  maternal  families,  consisting 
of  individuals  of  three  or  four  generations  living  at  one 


74 


EARLY    CIVILIZATION 


time,  numbered  fifty  or  less  members,  while  others  had  as 
many  as  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  even  two  hundred.^ 

The  maternal  family  in  early  times  had  certain  ceremonial 
functions  as  well  as  hereditary  prerogatives,  such  as  the  pos- 
session of  the  ganoda,  a  magical  medicine  of  extraordinary 
potency  associated  with  the  rites  of  the  Little  Water  or 
Medicine  Societies.  But  the  principal  function  of  the  ma- 
ternal family  was  in  connection  with  the  election  and  suc- 
cession of  chiefs. 

Two  or  usually  more  maternal  families  constituted  a  clan. 
The  clans  were  named  after  animals  and  birds.  For  in- 
stance, those  of  the  Seneca  were  named  and  arranged  as 
follows : 

PHRATRY  I  PHRATRY  II 

Turtle — Bear — ^Wolf — Ball    Deer — Hawk — Great  Snipe 

—  Little  Snipe 


^The  structure  of  a  maternal  family  may  be  illustrated  by  the  following 
diagram. 


L 


=fA 


•rA  irO  Ij 

uiin 


VjiZ 


n 


Fig.  23 


AH  individuals  represented  as  ^  or  A  belong  to  this  maternal  family. 

#  O  \vomen  ; lateral  relationship  (such 

as  brothers  and  sisters) 


A  A  men 
=      married 


descended  from 


THE  IROQUOIS   MATRIARCHATE  75 

The  clans  were  not  co-extensive  with  villages — although  it 
is  not  improbable  that  such  was  the  earliest  condition — 
members  of  one  clan  living  in  more  than  one  village.  Each 
clan  was  more  or  less  closely  associated  with  one  or  more 
Long  Houses,  and  the  majority  of  individuals  in  such  Long 
Houses  probably  belonged  to  that  clan. 

Unlike  many  "totemic"  peoples,  the  Iroquois  showed  no 
regard  whatsoever  for  the  animals  and  birds  from  which 
the  clans  took  their  names.  These  animals  and  birds  were 
not  looked  upon  as  the  ancestors  of  the  clan  mates,  nor 
were  they  worshipped.  In  fact,  no  special  relations  whatso- 
ever obtained  between  the  individuals  of  a  clan  and  their 
eponymous  animal.  While  it  is  not  quite  certain  that  the 
clans  exercised  proprietary  rights  over  one  or  more  fields, 
positive  evidence  exists  to  the  effect  that  each  clan  had  its 
own  cemetery  where  the  members  of  the  clan  were  buried. 

Each  clan  possessed  the  right  to  use  for  its  members  cer- 
tain individual  names,  which  were  the  property  of  the  parti- 
cular clan;  no  other  clan  was  supposed  to  use  these  names, 
nor  could  two  living  individuals  of  one  clan  bear  the  same 
name  at  one  time.  These  names  were  semi-ceremonial  in 
character  and  were  but  seldom  used  for  purposes  of  appella- 
tion or  reference,  relationship  terniaJ[ijdng.empIoyed  for  that 
purpose.  A  prominent  feature  of  a  clan  was  its  exogaiftousi, 
function:  no  member  of  a  clan  was  permitted  to  marry  a 
woman  of  the  same  clan.  This  prohibition  extended  to  all 
clans  of  the  same  name,  no  matter  to  what  tribe  they  be- 
longed, so  that  a  Seneca  Wolf  man,  for  example,  was  not 
merely  prohibited  from  marrying  a  Seneca  Wolf  woman, 
but  the  same  prohibition  debarred  him  from  marrying 
Onondaga  or  Cayuga  Wolf  women,  and  so  on. 

The  two  phratries  into  which  each  tribe  was  divided 
were  mainly  ceremonial  units,  most  of  the  ceremonies  of  the 
Iroquois  being  so  arranged  that  one  phratry  was  conceived 
as  giving  it  to  the  other,  individuals  belonging  to  the  two 
phratries  occupying  opposite  ends  of  the  ceremonial  Long 
House. 


76  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

The  phratries  also  had  the  curious  obligation  of  burying 
each  other's  members,  while  the  mourners  belonged  to  the 
phratry  of  the  deceased  member.  As  will  presently  appear, 
the  phratry  also  had  an  important  political  function. 

The  next  higher  units,  the  tribes,  lost  much  of  their  for- 
mer independence  after  the  formation  of  the  League.  The 
tribes  were  organized  with  reference  to  the  League  some- 
what after  the  nature  of  the  arrangement  of  phratries  in 
each  tribe.  When  the  chiefs  of  the  League  met  for  cere- 
monial purposes,  they  were  arranged  in  groups  represent- 
ing the  separate  tribes  and  divided  into  two  tribal  phratries, 
like  this : 

Onondaga  Chiefs  Cayuga  Chiefs 

Mohawk  Chiefs  Oneida  Chiefs 

Seneca  Chiefs 

On  administrative  occasions,  on  the  other  hand,  when  war 
or  peace  were  to  be  decreed,  and  in  some  other  instances,  the 
tribal  chiefs  were  arranged  in  three  groups,  like  this: 

Onondaga  Chiefs 

Mohawk  Chiefs  Cayuga  Chiefs 

Seneca  Chiefs  Oneida  Chiefs 

There  were,  in  all,  fifty  chiefs,  nine  each  from  the  Mohawk 
and  Oneida,  fourteen  from  the  Onondaga,  ten  from  the 
Cayuga  and  eight  from  the  Seneca.  It  is  important  to  re- 
member that,  although  each  chieftainship  was  connected 
with  a  clan  and  a  maternal  family,  these  chiefs  were  neither 
clan  nor  family  chiefs,  and  that  some  clans  and  many  ma- 
ternal families  had  no  chiefs  representing  them  in  the 
League.  The  fifty  chiefs  were  federal  officials  and  whatever 
authority  they  possessed  they  wielded  equally  over  all  indi- 
viduals of  the  League,  without  distinction  as  to  tribe  or  clan. 
The  Tuscarora  also  had  a  number  of  chiefs  who  were  per- 


THE  IROQUOIS   MATRIARCHATE  77 

mitted  to  sit  at  the  Councils  of  the  League.    They  partici- 
pated in  the  discussions  but  had  no  voice  in  the  decisions/ 

The  official  functions  of  the  chiefs  were  not  numerous. 
They  decided,  as  mentioned  above,  upon  peace  and  war, 
intertribal  agreements  and  alliances,  passed  judgment 
on  rare  occasions  on  the  behavior  of  particularly 
recalcitrant  individuals  and,  in  more  recent  times,  sat  as  a 
body  of  judges  in  disputes  over  the  ownership  of  land.  But 
the  principal  functions  of  chiefs  were  individual.  A  chief 
was  supposed  to  be  wise,  serious  ("not  a  joker"),  and  im- 
perturbable. A  chief,  taught  the  Iroquois  elders,  never  loses 
his  temper,  for  "his  skin  is  seven  thumbs  thick."  Each  of 
the  fifty  chieftainships  was  known  by  an  hereditary  name, 
which  was  assumed  by  a  chief  when  entering  office  and,  upon 
his  decease  or  removal,  was  passed  on  to  his  successor. 

When  a  chief  died  a  messenger  was  sent  out,  who  ran 
through  the  villages,  screaming,  "Gwa — a  I  .  .  .  gwa — a! 
..."  Then  the  people  knew  that  a  chief  was  dead.  At 
once,  the  matron  of  the  maternal  family  to  which  the  chief 
had  belonged,  determined  upon  his  successor,  usually  a  ma- 
ternal nephew  or  younger  brother  of  the  deceased  chief,  but 
in  all  cases  a  member  of  the  same  maternal  family.  Having 
thus  made  up  her  mind,  the  matron  would  call  a  meeting  of 
the  members  of  her  maternal  family  for  the  ratification 
of  her  decision.  To  this  meeting  other  members  of  the  same 
clan  were  admitted,  but  the  members  of  the  particular  ma- 
ternal family  were  "in  control."  In  ancient  conditions,  the 
matron  of  the  maternal  family  almost  invariably  had  her, 
own  way  at  these  meetings.  Later  records  present  occa- 
sional evidence  of  differences  between  related  women  that 
would  arise  on  such  occasions.  However  that  may  be,  a 
candidate  was  proposed  and  approved  at  the  gathering. 

The  matron  of  the  maternal  family  was  then  constituted 


*The  Iroquois  are  wont  to  refer  to  the  traditional  reason  for  this  dis- 
crimination against  the  Tuscarora.  The  mythological  symbol  for  the  League 
is  a  Long  House,  and  the  Iroquois  claim  that  instead  of  entering  the  Long 
House  through  the  door,  as  was  proper,  the  Tuscarora  entered  by  breaking 
through  the  bark  wall.    Hence  their  partial  disenfranchisement. 


78  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

a  delegate  In  order  to  communicate  the  name  of  the  candi- 
date to  the  chiefs  of  the  Brother  clans,  the  ones,  that  is, 
of  the  same  phratry  to  which  the  dead  chief  belonged. 
They  could  either  veto  the  nomination  or  approve  of  it. 
The  latter  was  usually  che  case ;  whereupon  the  matron  dele- 
gate proceeded  to  call  upon  the  chiefs  of  the  Cousin  clans, 
belonging  to  the  opposite  phratry.  After  ratification  by 
these  chiefs  the  name  of  the  candidate  was  presented  to  the 
Council  of  the  Chiefs  of  the  League,  who  again  were  at 
liberty  either  to  accept  or  reject  the  proposed  candidate.  In 
the  latter  eventuality  the  candidate's  name  was  once  more 
presented  to  the  maternal  family.  This,  however,  occurred 
but  seldom.  In  the  overwhelming  majority  of  cases  the 
League  Council  sanctioned  the  choice  of  the  candidate's  own 
people.  Whereupon  the  League  chiefs  proceeded  to  set  a 
date  for  the  ceremonial  "raising"  of  the  new  chief.  This 
was  a  great  intertribal  festival  which  was  attended  by  all 
the  chiefs  of  the  League  who  were  able  to  be  present,  and 
to  which  all  the  people  were  invited.  Prayers  were  recited, 
the  names  of  the  chiefs  enumerated;  the  duties  of  chief- 
tainship were  once  more  called  to  the  minds  of  the  people, 
and  a  new  chief  entered  the  League. 

It  must,  however,  not  be  assumed  that  the  chief  was  hence- 
forth free  from  any  further  supervision  on  the  part  of  his 
electors.  The  matron  of  his  maternal  family  continued  to 
keep  careful  watch  over  his  activities.  Should  the  new  chief 
prove  neglectful  of  his  duties,  should  he  reveal  an  evil 
temper,  or  a  tendency  towards  prevarication  or  intemper- 
ance, or,  worst  of  all,  should  his  behavior  with  reference  to 
the  enemies  of  the  people,  such  as  the  Sioux  or  Algonquin, 
fall  short  of  what  was  to  be  expected  of  a  patriotic  Iroquois, 
the  matron  would  not  long  delay  in  calling  such  facts  to  his 
attention.  She  would  visit  the  chief  and  In  a  semi-cere- 
monial address  recall  to  his  mind  his  objectionable  activities. 
She  would  then  solemnly  warn  him  that  unless  he  desisted 
from  his  evil  practises,  his  very  chieftainship  would  be  en- 


THE  IROQUOIS   MATRIARCHATE  79 

dangered.  The  chief  thus  addressed  was  not  expected  to 
reply  to  her  remarks. 

If  the  chief  persisted  in  his  evil  ways,  the  matron  called 
on  him  for  the  second  time  and  the  same  procedure  was  re- 
peated. She  warned  him,  however,  that  in  case  of  further 
offenses  she  would  call  on  him  once  more,  accompanied  by 
a  warrior  chiefs  and  proceed  to  divest  him  of  his  office. 
Unless  the  chief  reformed,  the  matron  called  upon  him  for 
the  third  time,  accompanied  by  the  warrior  chief.  The 
latter  then  delivered  the  following  speech:  *'I  will  now  ad- 
monish you  for  the  last  time  and  if  you  continue  to  resist 
to  accede  to  and  obey  this  request,  then  your  duties  as  chief 
of  our  family  and  clan  will  ceaSe,  and  I  shall  take  the  deer's 
horns  from  off  your  head,  and  with  a  broad-edged  stone  axe 
I  shall  cut  the  tree  down,"  (meaning  that  he  shall  be  de- 
posed from  his  position  as  chief  of  the  Confederacy) .  Then 
the  warrior  chief  "handed  back  the  deer's  horns"  to  the 
matron. 

Thus  the  chief  was  deposed.  The  matron  then  notified 
the  chiefs  of  the  League  of  what  had  occurred.  In  such 
cases  the  regular  procedure  followed  in  the  election  of 
chiefs  was  not  gone  through.  Instead,  the  chiefs  them- 
selves met  in  Council  and  elected  a  successor. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  of  what  transcendent  importance  the 
women  were  in  the  Iroquois  body  politic.     Although  the 


^The  warrior  chiefs  are  to  be  distinguished  from  the  fifty  hereditary 
civil  chiefs  or  "sachems,"  as  Morgan  called  them.  The  warrior  chiefs  were 
not  hereditary  but  elective.  Originally,  these  chiefs  owed  their  office  to  the 
recognition  of  their  military  prowess,  but,  as  a  group,  they  enjoyed  but  little 
prestige  or  power  among  the  people;  in  the  course  of  time,  however,  they 
grew  in  number  and  influence.  During  the  Revolutionary  War  they  had 
risen  to  a  position  of  great  prominence  and  often  rivalled  the  sachems 
themselves. 

Morgap  and  others  have  noted  the  interesting  fact  that  of  the  Iroquois 
who  have  achieved  historic  fame  practically  all  belonged  to  the  class  of 
warrior  chiefs,  not  to  that  of  sachems.  While  this  was  primarily  due  to  the 
fact  that  fame  came  with  military  achievement,  a  prerogative  of  the  war- 
rior chiefs,  it  was  due  secondarily  to  the  elective  character  of  these  chiefs. 
The  standard  of  availability  for  chieftainship  may  have  been  a  narrow  one, 
but  within  these  limits  merit  alone  counted ;  whereas  the  inheritance  of 
sachemships  in  maternal  families  frequently  reduced  the  choice  to  but  a 
few  individuals  not  necessarily  of  great  ability. 


8o  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

office  of  hereditary  chief  was  denied  them,  this  office  was 
largely  in  their  control.  Once  in  a  while  it  would  occur 
that  a  woman  who  had  gained  the  grateful  recognition  of 
her  people  by  acts  of  unusual  heroism  or  patriotism,  was 
made  a  chief,  but  in  such  a  case  it  was  an  honorary  chief- 
tainship, a  so-called  Pine  Tree  chieftainship  (the  recipient 
of  the  honor  being  conceived  straight  as  a  pine) .  This  was 
a  purely  individual  office  not  transmissible  by  inheritance. 

Women  constituted  the  public  opinion  of  the  Iroquois. 
To  them  the  chief  was  responsible  for  his  actions.  More- 
over, the  matron  of  a  maternal  family  in  whose  hands  it 
was  to  make  and  unmake  chiefs,  often  knew  beforehand 
who  the  new  chief  was  likely  to  be,  this  fact  again  being 
known  to  the  prospective  candidate.  Such  knowledge,  of 
course,  could  not  but  affect  the  behavior  of  the  young  man. 
He  felt  himself  under  the  watchful  eye  of  a  censor  and  a 
judge,  on  whom  depended  the  future  of  his  career. 

To  this  must  be  added  that  women  also  played  a  promi- 
nent part  in  ceremonial  matters,  for  of  the  six  ceremonial 
officials  which  each  clan  was  wont  to  elect  for  the  purposes  of 
arranging  and  supervising  ceremonial  procedure,  three  were 
men  and  three  women. ^  It  was  the  duty  of  these  ceremonial 
officials  to  determine  upon  the  period  when  the  great  tribal 
festivals  were  to  be  held  and  to  make  all  necessary  prepara- 
tions, such  as  the  setting  aside  of  the  not  inconsiderable 
quantities  of  food  required,  the  selection  of  a  number  of 
men  and  women  who  were  expected  to  officiate  at  the  festival 
and  the  appropriate  rehauling  of  the  ceremonial  Long 
House. 

When  the  important  economic  functions  and  prerogatives 
of  women  are  kept  in  mind,  it  appears  that  their  economic, 
social  and  political  position  among  the  Iroquois  was  fully 
equal  to  that  of  men,  and  in  some  respects  was  superior  to 
theirs.^ 


^The  number  of  ceremonial  officials  elected  by  each  clan  varied  somewhat 
in  the  course  of  Iroquois  history. 

'The  extent  to  which  the  prestige  of  Iroquois  women  survives  to  this  day, 


THE  IROQUOIS  MATRIARCHATE  8x 

To  this  interpretation  of  Iroquois  society  it  might  pos- 
sibly be  objected  that  whatever  the  prominence  of  women 
in  the  League  economy  and  politics,  they  are  after  all  not 
eligible  to  chieftainship,  that  the  main  executive  power  is 
lodged  in  the  persons  of  men  and  that  it  is  therefore  incor- 
rect to  designate  the  social  system  of  the  Iroquois  as  a 
matriarchate.  This  stricture  is  in  part  justifiable  insofar 
as  chieftainship  does  represent  the  principal  executive  au- 
thority, and  the  chiefs  among  the  Iroquois  are  men.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  women  are  the  ones  who  make  and  un- 
make chiefs.  The  fitness  or  unfitness  of  an  individual  for 
chieftainship  is,  then,  a  condition  dependent  on  their  judg- 
ment. They  are  thus  truly  the  power  behind  the  throne. 
This  becomes  particularly  apparent  when  the  situation 
among  the  Iroquois  is  compared  with  that  of  Africa,  where 
women  become  queens,  a  station  formally  more  exalted 
than  that  occupied  by  any  Iroquois  woman,  but  where  this 
high  status  of  certain  individual  women  does  in  no  way 


may  be  brought  home  by  two  recent  instances  of  which  I  was  a  personal 
witness.  On  one  occasion  I  was  about  to  photograph  some  of  the  ceremonial 
rites  of  the  Iroquois,  due  permission  from  a  number  of  chiefs  having  pre- 
viously been  secured.  Just  as  the  ceremony  was  about  to  begin  and  after 
I  had  already  entered  the  ceremonial  Long  House,  a  chief  appeared  and 
in  somewhat  officious  tones  notified  me  that  I  was  wanted  outside.  I  fol- 
lowed him  at  once  and  found  myself  facing  a  small  gathering,  with  one 
of  the  leading  women  of  the  tribe  as  the  center.  As  she  did  not  speak 
English,  the  chief  explained  to  me  rather  curtly  that  the  woman  had  ob- 
jected to  my  photographing  the  proceedings.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
done  but  to  submit.  Should  I  have  persisted,  my  prospects  as  an  ethnolo- 
gist among  this  tribe  of  Iroquois  would  have  been  permanently  handicapped. 
On  another  occasion  a  woman  who  belonged  to  the  Wolf  clan  of  the 
Cayuga  was  pointed  out  to  me  as  a  great  expert  on  Cayuga  names.  She 
was  the  Keeper  of  such  names,  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep  track  of  all  names 
of  her  clan  in  use  at  a'  given  time,  and  also  of  the  names  available  for  use. 
Mothers  in  need  of  names  for  their  new-born  babes  were  wont  to  consult 
her,  and  had  implicit  faith  in  her  knowledge.  In  a  highly  hopeful  mood 
I  proceeded  to  call  upon  the  woman,  whose  three  husky  sons  shared  my 
eagerness  to  see  the  names  recorded  and  preserved — the  idea  of  having  the 
individual  names  of  their  clan  thus  saved  for  posterity  rather  flattered  the 
vanity  of  these  sophisticated  Indians.  But  we  had  counted  without  the 
master.  The  woman  received  me  with  a  quizzical  smile,  dictated  to  me 
a  few  of  the  names  which  the  least  informed  Iroquois  could  have  recalled, 
then  pleaded  failure  of  memory  due  to  old  age.  No  amount  of  persuasion, 
not  even  the  prospect  of  a  handsome  remuneration,  had  the  least  effect. 
Thus,  this  large  set  of  individual  names  would  have  remained  unrecorded 
if  not  for  the  happy  chance  that  Chief  John  Gibson,  my  main  informant  and 
a  great  student  of  all  matters  Iroquoian,  was  familiar  with  most  of  the 
names,  and  dictated  them  to  me  without  hesitation. 


82  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

represent  the  general  position  of  women  in  the  community, 
which  is  decidedly  inferior.^ 


'Another  parallel  may  be  seen  in  noodern  society,  where  governments, 
whether  imperial  or  democratic,  are  controlled  by  those  who  own  or  man- 
ipulate the  material  resources  of  the  country,  although  these  individuals 
themselves  do  not  figure  in  the  highest  executive  positions. 


CHAPTER  IV 
UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN  STATE 

The  Baganda  people  inhabiting  the  Uganda  country  are 
situated  west  of  Lake  Victoria  Nyanza.  The  economic 
life  of  this  tribe,  like  that  of  their  Bantu  speaking  neigh- 
bors, is  complex  and  diversified.  They  are  cattle  breeders 
and  herders  on  a  large  scale,  and  also  keep  flocks  of 
goats  and  sheep.  The  care  of  the  herds  is  in  the  hands 
of  men  who  form  a  somewhat  distinct  group  in  Baganda 
society. 

The  cultivation  of  plants  has  progressed  equally  far. 
Maize  is  perhaps  the  principal  staple  food,  but  plantain 
trees  are  also  cultivated  on  a  large  scale  and,  to  a  lesser  ex- 
tent, coffee  trees.  The  multifarious  cares  involved  in  the 
processes  of  agriculture  and  tree  culture  are  in  the  hands 
of  women,  barring  only  the  assistance  offered  by  men  in 
the  initial  clearing  of  the  ground  of  grass  and  trees  in  prep- 
aration for  cultivation. 

The  prevalence  of  these  occupations  does  not  impair  the 
importance  of  hunting,  which  is  carried  on  by  individuals 
as  well  as  groups,  communal  buffalo  and  elephant  hunting 
being  especially  highly  developed. 

Baganda  industries  do  not  reach  the  high  technical  per- 
fection found  among  some  other  African  tribes,  but  they 
are  many  and  specialized.  There  are  potters  and  bark 
cloth  makers,  basket  makers  and  leather  workers,  there 
are  ironsmiths  and  experts  in  ivory  carving,  while  the  art 
of  building  canoes  is  also  in  the  hands  of  experienced 
craftsmen. 

Before  passing  to  the  social  and  political  organization  of 
the  Baganda,  one  further  feature  of  their  economic  life 
must  be  noted  which  is  characteristic  for  large  areas  in 
Africa,  but  perhaps  unknown  in  all  other  primitive  com- 

83 


84  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

munities.  This  feature  Is  the  large  scale  on  which  certain 
kinds  of  work  are  carried  on.  The  building  of  houses  in 
the  capital  and  of  the  many  principal  and  subsidiary  en- 
closures surrounding  the  capital  and  groups  of  houses  with- 
in, involved  the  co-operation  of  hundreds  of  workers,  who 
were  expected  to  furnish  the  building  materials  and  whose 
task  required  continuous  application  for  weeks  and  months 
at  a  time.  The  making  of  roads  which  connected  the  differ- 
ent districts  of  Uganda  with  the  capital  and  other  principal 
towns,  was  an  even  more  laborious  undertaking,  involving 
still  larger  numbers  of  workingmen,  who  were  furnished  by 
the  local  communities.  Barring  the  architectural  accom- 
plishments of  Mexico  and  Peru,  the  primitive  world  of 
America,  Australia,  the  South  Seas  or  Siberia,  knows  of  no 
industrial  enterprises  of  equally  vast  scale. 

The  Baganda  are  divided  into  thirty-six  gentes  or  kika. 
Each  gens  has  two  totems,  while  one  or  two  gentes  seem  to 
have  even  three,  all  of  which  are  sacred  to  the  members  of 
the  gens  and  are  not  eaten  or  killed.  All  the  members  of  a 
gens  are  supposed  to  have  descended  from  one  human  an- 
cestor. The  gentes  are  exogamous,  there  being  no  inter- 
marriage within  the  gens,  with  the  exception  of  the  Lung- 
Fish  gens,  which  comprises  two  branches  differentiated  by 
their  second  totems.  These  two  branches  are  permitted  to 
intermarry.  When  a  Baganda  woman  marries,  she  pre- 
serves her  own  totem — a  perfectly  regular  procedure  for  a 
gentile  people — but  in  addition  she  adopts  her  husband's 
totem.  Mothers  will  at  times  attempt  to  impart  a  respect 
for  their  totem  to  the  children,  but  in  this  they  usually  f ail.^ 

Each  gens  is  sub-divided  into  a  number  of  local  divisions 
or  siffa,  which  are  situated  in  different  districts,  in  often 


^The  fact  noted  in  the  text  that  the  wife  adopted  her  husband's  totem 
must,  no  doubt,  be  ascribed  to  the  weakened  condition  of  the  gentile  prin- 
ciple among  the  Baganda.  No  orthodox  totemic,  or  for  that  matter,  non- 
totemic  but  gentile  community  would  ever  sanction  such  an  overlapping  of 
totems  in  the  family.  Facts  such  as  this  oflFer  clear  evidence  that  the 
totemic  gentes  among  the  Baganda,  as  in  many  another  Bantu  tribe,  are  in 
a  state  of  transformation  into  a  new  order  of  society,  under  the  cumulative 
stress  of  an  increasingly  dense  population,  and  of  the  requirements  of  a 
centralized  political  system. 


UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN   STATE  85 

widely  separated  parts  of  Uganda.  Each  siga,  again,  is  di- 
vided into  a  number  of  further  minor  units  or  enda. 

Each  gens  owns  a  number  of  such  estates  or  siga,  which 
are  often  situated  on  hills  covered  by  gardens,  extending 
down  into  the  valley.  These  estates  are  in  charge  of  chiefs 
responsible  to  the  gentile  chief  for  the  conduct  of  the  mem- 
bers of  their  siga.  The  gentes  have  their  own  gods,  but 
many  gentes  also  take  charge  of  one  of  the  national  gods, 
in  which  case  the  temple  is  situated  on  the  estate  where  the 
chief  of  the  gens  resides,  who  then  officiates  in  the  temple 
as  priest. 

In  addition  to  these  lands,  the  gentes  also  have  certain 
free  lands,  sections  of  territory  in  which  three  or  four  gen- 
erations of  a  branch  of  a  gens  have  buried  their  members; 
after  this  the  land  is  regarded  as  belonging  to  the  gens. 
Advantage  is  often  taken  of  this  custom  in  order  to  appro- 
priate desirable  garden  land;  therefore  chiefs  are  on  the 
lookout  against  such  localized  burials,  for  if  the  members 
of  a  gens  once  succeed  in  securing  the  right  to  a  plot  of  land, 
even  the  king  would  hesitate  to  intervene,  fearing  the  wrath 
of  the  gentile  ghosts.  Each  gens  has  a  set  of  individual 
names,  which  no  other  gens  is  permitted  to  use.  While  these 
names  are  bestowed  on  each  member  of  the  gens,  they  are 
seldom  actually  employed,  other  names  being  used  instead. 
There  is,  in  fact,  a  general  reluctance  on  the  part  of  in- 
dividuals to  admit  their  gentile  allegiance  unless  there  is 
definite  necessity  to  do  so. 

The  local  subdivisions  of  the  siffa,  called  enda,  also  have 
their  petty  chiefs,  who  are  responsible  for  the  behavior  of 
the  members  of  their  local  group.  All  of  these  chiefs,  those 
of  the  gens,  the  siga  and  the  enda,  bear  fixed  hereditary 
titles,  which  they  assume  in  taking  office.  The  titles  are  all 
traced  back  to  the  traditional  original  holders  of  these 
offices,  and  the  various  chiefs  are  in  the  habit  of  identifying 
themselves  with  those  original  holders  to  the  extent  of  re- 
ferring to  their  travels  and  other  exploits  as  having  been 
undertaken  by  themselves. 


86  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

There  are,  in  all,  thirty-six  gentes,  each  with  at  least  two 
totems.  Thus  the  Leopard  gens  also  has  the  Genet  as  its 
totem,  the  Lion  has  the  Eagle,  the  Otter  also  has  the  Genet, 
the  Grasshopper  has  the  Locust,  the  Elephant  the  Hip- 
popotamus, and  so  on. 

Some  illustrations  will  now  be  given  of  the  political  func- 
tions of  the  gentes  and  of  other  customs  associated  with 
each  gens.  The  Leopard  gens  is  not  permitted  to  eat  the 
meat  of  animals  that  have  been  scratched  or  torn  by  wild 
beasts.  The  members  of  this  gens  have  no  service  duties  to 
perform  in  connection  with  the  royal  household.  The  gens 
takes  care  of  a  temple  situated  on  Magonga  Hill,  where  the 
mythological  king  Kintu  first  lived.  No  member  of  this 
gens  can  become  an  heir  to  the  throne.  The  daughters  of  a 
Leopard  man  are  permitted  to  marry  the  king,  but  their 
sons  must  be  strangled.  This  gens  has  four  estates  in  one  of 
the  districts  of  Uganda,  nine  in  another,  two  in  still  an- 
other and  one  each  in  three  further  districts.  The  gens 
supplies  the  king  with  his  chief  butler,  also  with  the  man  in 
charge  of  the  king's  drinking  water,  who  is  put  to  death 
when  the  king  dies. 

The  members  of  the  Otter  gens  make  bark  cloth  for  the 
king.  They  also  supply  one  of  the  king's  wives,  whose  duty 
it  is  to  make  his  bed.  This  duty  is  hereditary  in  the  gens. 
After  the  king's  death  this  wife  is  expected  to  go  to  his 
temple  and  stay  there  for  the  rest  of  her  life.  On  Nsoke 
Hill  there  stands  a  temple  dedicated  to  the  deified  ghost 
of  the  Father,  the  mythological  ancestor  of  this  gens,  and 
the  priest  associated  with  this  temple  must  belong  to  the 
gens. 

The  Elephant  gens  people  have  fifty-one  estates.  They 
are  the  chief  herdsmen  to  the  king  and  also  supply  the  royal 
household  with  a  favorite  variety  of  fish  as  well  as  a  parti- 
cular kind  of  bark  cloth,  manufactured  by  members  of  the 
gens.  The  butter  used  in  the  embalming  ceremony,  after  the 
king's  death,  is  also  prepared  and  supplied  by  this  gens. 

The  Lung  Fish  gens,  which  was  subdivided  into  two 


UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN   STATE  87 

branches,  which  claimed  to  be  descended  from  one  Father 
but  could  intermarry,  has  as  many  as  seventy  estates  in  dif- 
ferent sections  of  Uganda. 

The  Mushroom  gens  has  the  Snail  as  its  second  totem  and 
a  small  ivory  disc  as  a  third.  This  gens  is  overburdened 
with  duties  referring  to  the  royal  household.  In  charge 
of  the  gens  is  the  temple  of  Nende,  the  second  god  of  war. 
The  gens  also  takes  care  of  the  royal  drum,  it  being  the 
duty  of  a  member  of  the  gens  to  carry  the  drum  daily  to  the 
royal  enclosure  and  back  again.  The  royal  stool  is  also 
taken  care  of  by  this  gens.  The  members  of  the  gens  sup- 
ply the  gate  makers  for  the  king,  as  well  as  the  keepers  of 
the  gates.  The  chief  gate  keeper,  a  highly  important  per- 
sonage, belongs  to  this  gens.  This  individual  has  free 
access  to  all  parts  of  the  royal  enclosure,  which  enables  him 
to  keep  watch  on  the  gate  keepers.  When,  on  the  accession 
of  a  new  king,  the  Elephant  gens  people  drive  twenty  cows 
into  the  royal  enclosure,  the  gate  keeper  captures  ten  of 
these.  He  also  appropriates  one  third  of  the  first  lot  of 
tribute  delivered  to  the  king.  When  the  first  chiefs  come  to 
pay  their  respects  to  the  new  king,  he  captures  one  of  these 
and  redeems  him  only  after  exacting  from  him  a  payment 
of  ten  women  to  the  king.  The  king's  gourd,  or  drinking 
cup,  is  taken  care  of  by  this  gens.  It  supplies  the  gate 
keepers  to  the  queen,  to  the  king's  mother  and  to  two  of  the 
highest  chiefs.  From  this  gens  is  also  taken  one  of  the 
king's  wives,  whose  duty  it  is  to  dig  the  first  sod  for  the 
royal  garden,  whereupon  the  other  wives  are  free  to  take 
up  the  cultivation. 

Other  gentes  have  similar  totems,  restrictions,  temples 
and  duties  with  reference  to  the  royal  household. 

The  supreme  power  in  Uganda  is  centered  in  the  king, 
who  is  permitted  to  marry  only  a  Muganda.  No  woman  is 
permitted  to  ascend  the  royal  throne,  nor  any  person  not  of 
royal  blood.  Thus  the  sons  and  grandsons  of  a  king  are 
his  successors.  On  the  other  hand,  the  king's  sons,  or 
princes,  take  their  mother's  totem  while  the  royal  totems, 


88  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

Lion,  Leopard  and  Eagle,  are  seldom  mentioned.  Next  to 
the  king,  the  most  exalted  personages  in  the  kingdom  are  his 
sister  and  his  mother.  Princesses  are  not  permitted  to 
marry  or  to  have  children;  princes,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
encouraged  to  marry  in  order  that  the  supply  of  heirs  may 
not  become  exhausted.  When  sons  are  born  to  the  king, 
the  king's  brothers  surrender  to  his  sons  their  principal  es- 
tates situated  in  different  parts  of  the  country,  and  are  given 
other  smaller  estates  in  their  stead.  The  brothers  of  the 
king  who  have  surrendered  their  estates  are  still  eligible  to 
the  throne,  but  their  sons  are  debarred. 

The  king  and  all  the  chiefs  own  individual  drums  which 
are  distinguished  by  their  beats.  The  eldest  son  of  the  king 
may  not  reign  but  must  take  care  of  his  brothers.  Princes 
were  feared  and  many  of  them  were  put  to  death  as  soon  as 
a  successor  to  the  throne  was  assured.  The  princes  are  rep- 
resented by  their  own  chiefs  in  the  districts  where  their  es- 
tates are  situated. 

Although  the  king  expresses  his  wishes  with  reference  to 
the  succession  of  the  throne,  the  chiefs  are  the  ones  to  decide. 

When  a  king  dies  the  prospective  heirs  are  brought  to 
the  capital  by  certain  chiefs.  As  rivalries  among  the  royal 
aspirants  are  not  uncommon,  the  chiefs  and  their  adherents 
come  prepared  to  fight.  One  of  the  chiefs  faces  the  princes 
who  stand  in  a  row,  and  pointing  at  the  one  who  is  expected 
to  reign,  he  says:  "So  and  so  is  king,"  and  then  adds,  "those 
who  wish  to  fight,  let  them  do  so  now."  If,  after  this,  any 
other  aspirants  come  to  the  fore,  spears  are  passed  around 
and  a  fight  ensues  between  the  rival  princes  and  their  sup- 
porters. It  continues  until  one  of  the  princes  is  either 
wounded  or  killed.  The  victor  becomes  king.  One  of  the 
king's  sisters  is  chosen  queen  on  this  occasion. 

After  the  ceremony  the  king  and  his  queen  undertake  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  hills  of  Budo,  the  fetich,  guarded  by  three 
chiefs,  who  live  in  houses  without  fences,  for  these  might 
be  used  as  a  hiding  place  by  one  of  the  rival  princes.  Before 
the  king  is  admitted  to  the  temple,  a  sham  battle  is  enacted. 


UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN   STATE  89 

While  the  dead  king's  body  is  being  embalmed — a  procedure 
attended  by  much  ceremony — the  new  king  goes  into  mourn- 
ing. This  usually  takes  some  six  months,  during  which  time 
a  temporary  residence  near  Budo  is  erected  for  the  King; 
and  there  he  lives,  surrounded  by  the  residences  of  thou- 
sands of  chiefs,  many  of  whom  are  soon  to  be  deposed  and 
replaced. 

At  some  time  during  this  period,  the  queen  and  the  king's 
mother  take  possession  of  their  hereditary  estates,  which  up 
to  that  time  were  occupied  by  the  late  king's  sister  and 
mother,  who  now  receive  other  somewhat  smaller  estates. 

When  the  period  of  mourning  comes  to  an  end,  the  king 
beats  his  drum  to  make  this  fact  known.  Presently  a  gazelle 
is  brought  to  the  king's  enclosure  by  the  chief  of  the  Grass- 
hopper gens.  The  king  chases  and  kills  the  animal.  Then 
two  men  captured  on  the  public  roads  wearing  their  bark 
cloth  tied  In  a  roll  and  slung  over  the  left  shoulder, 
are  brought  to  the  royal  enclosure.  One  of  these  men  is 
spared,  while  the  other  Is  strangled  and  his  body  thrown  in 
the  river  under  papyrus  roots  so  It  can  never  be  found. 
After  this  the  king  selects  his  permanent  residence.  To 
quote  from  Roscoe's  picturesque  description  of  a  royal 
enclosure  In  the  making: 

"The  workmen  were  soon  busy  erecting  houses  on  the 
site  chosen  by  the  king;  each  District  Chief  had  the  duty  of 
providing  for  his  royal  master  some  special  house  which  had 
its  particular  place  Inside  the  enclosure.  Each  District 
Chief  had  also  to  build  some  portion  of  the  high  fence  which 
enclosed  the  royal  residence.  There  was  one  plan  followed, 
which  had  been  used  by  the  kings  for  years  without  varia- 
tion. The  enclosure  was  oval  shaped,  a  mile  in  length  and 
half  a  mile  wide,  and  the  capital  extended  five  or  six  miles 
In  front,  and  two  miles  on  either  side.  The  part  which  was 
called  the  back  was  reserved  for  the  king's  wives,  who  had 
large  estates  there  for  the  cultivation  of  plantain  trees. 
The  king  also  had  his  private  road  to  the  lake  through  these 
estates  through  which  he  might  escape  in  case  of  danger 


90  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

from  sudden  rebellion  or  In  case  of  war;  several  canoes  were 
also  kept  in  readiness,  in  case  of  emergency,  for  flight  to  the 
islands  of  the  lake,  where  he  could  form  his  plans  and  restore 
order.  The  top  of  the  Hill  was  reserved  for  the  king's 
own  residence ;  the  chiefs  built  dwellings  around  the  royal 
enclosure,  according  to  their  rank  and  the  part  of  the  coun- 
try to  which  they  belonged.  There  was  one  principal  en- 
trance, with  a  wide  gateway  and  a  house  to  guard  it,  and 
eight  other  small  gateways,  on  various  sides  of  the  enclo- 
sure, which  latter  were  private  for  the  use  of  either  the  king 
or  his  wives.  Each  gate  had  its  guard  houses,  both  inside 
and  outside;  the  gates  were  kept  fastened,  and  were  only 
opened  to  those  who  had  the  right  to  pass  them.  The  in- 
terior of  the  enclosure  was  divided  up  into  large  blocks  of 
houses,  with  wide  roads  between  them,  with  gates  and  gate 
keepers  to  guard  each  block,  so  that  even  within  the  enclo- 
sure it  was  impossible  for  the  women  to  pay  visits  to  one 
another  without  permission,  or  for  other  visitors  to  pass 
in  or  out  without  special  leave.  .  .  .  On  the  road  from  the 
main  entrance  to  the  council  chamber  were  the  best  houses 
and  there  the  strongest  guards  were  stationed.  The  roads 
were  lined  with  retainers,  who  guarded  the  king  and  were 
ready  for  any  emergency.  These  retainers  lived  in  tents 
made  from  cow  hide,  as  less  inflammable  than  grass,  in  order 
to  diminsh  the  risks  of  fire  in  the  royal  houses,  which  were 
entirely  constructed  of  reeds  and  grass,  so  that  when  once  a 
fire  broke  out,  it  was  a  serious  question  whether  any  of  the 
buildings  could  be  saved.  The  chiefs  who  were  acting  as 
guards  to  the  king  had  to  provide  their  own  tents  during  the 
months  that  they  were  in  oflflce.  The  sovereign's  retainers 
wore  a  special  dress  of  antelope  skins,  slung  over  the  right 
shoulder,  passed  under  the  left  arm,  and  tied  round  the  waist 
with  a  plaintain  fibre  girdle ;  their  wants  were  supplied  from 
the  king's  own  lands  .  .  .  ;  they  were  on  duty  in  relays  for 
months  at  a  time.  As  there  were  no  lamps  or  candles  for 
night  work,  torches  were  made  from  dry  reeds;  the  manu- 
facture of  these  reed  torches  became  quite  an  industry  and 


UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN  STATE  91 

enabled  the  king  to  have  the  forts  lighted  up  every  night. 
Bark  cloth  trees  were  planted  near  the  main  entrance  by  the 
priests  of  each  principal  deity,  at  the  time  when  the  king's 
houses  were  built,  and  offerings  were  placed  under  each  of 
them  for  each  particular  god;  the  trees  were  carefully 
guarded  and  tended,  because  it  was  believed  that  as  they 
grew  and  flourished  so  the  king's  life  and  powers  would 
increase." 

The  enclosures  of  the  queen  and  the  king's  mother  were 
situated  at  some  distance  from  the  royal  residence,  sepa- 
rated from  it  by  a  stream  of  running  water,  for  it  was  said 
that  "two  kings  could  not  live  on  the  same  hill."  The  royal 
residence  was  connected  with  these  enclosures  of  the  queen 
and  the  queen's  mother,  by  straight  roads  lined  on  both 
sides  with  homes  of  important  chiefs,  so  that  communica- 
tion could  always  be  maintained  without  fear  of  attack  by 
wild  animals. 

"The  King  sent  presents  to  each  of  the  important  deities ; 
female  slaves,  animals,  cowry-shells  and  bark  cloth.  He 
returned  the  royal  spear  to  Budo  and  sent  with  it  an  offering 
of  nine  women,  nine  cows,  nine  goats,  nine  loads  of  cowry- 
shells  and  nine  loads  of  bark  cloth,  together  with  one  of  the 
widows  who  was  to  be  the  wife  of  the  god  Budo ;  this  woman 
was  given  the  title  Nakato,  the  name  of  Budo's  first  wife, 
who  when  she  gave  birth  to  a  child  caused  the  sacred  well 
Nansove  to  spring  forth  on  Budo  Hill." 

A  vast  army  of  cooks  was  always  busy  at  the  royal  en- 
closure. They  were  mostly  women  servants  and  slaves,  who 
worked  urider  one  of  the  king's  wives.  Baskets  of  food  for 
the  entire  retinue  were  placed  before  the  King  for  inspec- 
tion twice  a  day.  He  himself  ate  alone,  served  by  one  of  his 
wives,  who,  however,  was  not  permitted  to  see  him  while 
he  was  engaged  in  eating.  "The  Lion  eats  alone,"  said  the 
people.  If  any  one  happened  to  come  in  and  overtake  the 
King  in  the  process  of  eating,  he  was  promptly  speared  to 
death  by  the  latter,  and  the  people  said:  "The  Lion  when 
eating  killed  so  and  so."     What  the  king  left  could  not  be 


92  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

touched  by  any  one  but  was  given  to  his  favorite  dogs.  In 
the  course  of  this  early  period  of  the  king's  reign,  a  number 
of  other  ceremonies  were  performed,  in  connection  with  one 
of  which  some  unsuspecting  passersby  were  seized  on  the 
high  road  and  put  to  death — to  invigorate  the  king. 

When  the  rightful  heir  was  a  minor  or  was  for  some 
other  reason  unacceptable  to  the  chiefs,  the  prime  minister 
appointed  a  regent,  a  post  always  filled  by  a  man,  as  a 
woman  would  not  be  tolerated  on  the  throne,  even  tem- 
porarily. If  the  king  had  no  son,  the  king's  brother  ruled, 
but  if,  in  the  meantime,  the  king  had  a  son  born  to  him,  he 
became  the  heir,  not  one  of  the  king's  brothers'  sons. 

The  Uganda  country  was  divided  into  ten  districts  pre- 
sided over  by  ten  chiefs.  Among  these  two  of  the  biggest 
chiefs  were  not  included,  namely,  Katikiro,  who  was  prime 
minister  and  chief  justice,  and  Kimbugwe,  who  had  charge 
of  the  king's  umbilical  cord.  These  two  chiefs  had  no  dis- 
tricts of  their  own,  but  like  the  king  himself,  they  owned 
estates  in  the  different  districts.  These  administrative  sub- 
divisions of  Uganda  were  so  arranged  as  to  have  the  boun- 
daries marked  by  some  natural  feature :  a  stream  of  water, 
a  small  wood,  and  the  like.  In  addition  to  the  divisions  of 
Uganda  proper,  certain  tributary  countries  must  be  men- 
tioned which  were  in  part  subject  to  the  Baganda.  In  the 
north  lived  the  Bosoga,  from  whom  a  regular  tribute  of 
goats,  cows  and  slaves  was  expected.  The  country  to  the 
southwest  of  Budu  belonged  to  the  people  of  Koki,  who 
paid  tribute  in  iron  hoes  and  cowry-shells.  These  people 
had  a  king  of  their  own,  but  they  could  not  withstand  the 
raids  of  the  Baganda.  To  the  west  were  the  Ankole,  who 
kept  peace  with  the  Baganda  at  the  cost  of  periodic  contribu- 
tions of  herds  of  cattle.  The  Kiziba,  finally,  who  occupied 
the  district  south  of  Budu,  sent  tribute  of  cowry-shells  and 
trade  goods  which  they  themselves  obtained  from  tribes  liv- 
ing further  south. 

The  Katikiro,  in  his  capacity  of  chief  justice,  settled  the 
cases  which  were  beyond  the  competence  of  the  other  chiefs. 


UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN  STATE  93 

His  decisions  were  not  regarded  as  final,  however,  until  con- 
firmed by  the  King.  The  enclosure,  in  which  Katikiro  held 
his  residence,  resembled  the  royal  enclosure,  with  its  courts 
and  gate  keepers,  so  that  only  friends,  important  chiefs  and 
specially  privileged  individuals  could  reach  him  freely. 

The  chiefs  spent  a  large  part  of  their  time  at  the  capital, 
nor  were  they  at  liberty  to  leave  for  their  own  districts 
without  the  king's  permission.  In  their  absence,  their  ad- 
ministrative duties  were  performed  by  temporary  officials. 

All  the  land  belonged  to  the  King,  excepting  only  the  free- 
hold estates  of  the  gentes,  over  which  the  King  had  no  direct 
control.  Contributions  to  the  state  in  taxes  and  labor  were, 
however,  expected  from  these  estates.  The  king  had  the 
right  to  depose  a  chief  at  will.  When  a  chief  was  turned 
out  of  his  estate,  but  no  oflfense  could  be  shown  against  him, 
he  was  permitted  to  take  his  wives  and  cattle  along  with 
him;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  guilty  of  some  misdeed, 
the  cattle  as  well  as  the  wives  were  taken  by  the  king,  pro- 
vided he  was  able  to  find  them.  In  the  minor  estates  the 
sub-chiefs  were  masters  and  within  the  range  of  the  local 
affairs  their  control  was  absolute;  in  all  matters  appertain- 
ing to  state  work,  however,  they  were  expected  to  consult 
the  district  chiefs. 

Each  district  chief  had  to  maintain  a  road  about  four 
yards  wide,  leading  from  the  capital  to  his  district,  and  the 
sub-chiefs  had  to  do  the  same  with  the  roads  connecting  their 
sections  with  the  residence  of  the  district  chief.  In  cases 
where  these  roads  led  over  swamps  the  builder's  task  re- 
quired a  tremendous  amount  of  labor.  Not  infrequently 
bridges  were  erected  over  streams.  If  the  stream  was  too 
wide  for  a  bridge,  and  the  detour  to  a  bridgeable  place  was 
too  great,  papyrus  stems  were  broken  over  their  roots,  and 
in  this  way  a  precarious  crossing  was  secured.  If,  in  crossing 
such  a  bridge  any  one  slipped,  he  was  doomed.  No  attempt 
was  made  to  rescue  him  as  it  was  believed  that  he  had 
been  claimed  by  the  spirits  of  the  river,  whose  vengeance 
was  feared  in  case  a  rescue  was  attempted. 


94  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

In  the  capital  itself  roads  about  twenty  yards  wide  were 
maintained.  The  labor  required  for  the  erection  of  resi- 
dences, enclosures,  fences,  roads,  had  to  be  supplied  by  the 
entire  country,  and  it  was  the  duty  of  the  prime  minister 
to  see  to  it  that  this  was  done  expeditiously.  Every  house- 
hold called  upon  for  workers  was  also  expected  to  furnish 
twenty-five  cowry-shells.  Of  the  large  quantity  of  shells 
thus  amassed,  the  king  took  two-thirds  and  the  Katikiro 
one-third,  which  he  divided  as  follows :  one-third  was  given 
to  the  chiefs  who  supplied  the  laborers,  one-third  to  the 
overseers,  and  one-third  the  prime  minister  kept  for  him- 
self. When  work  was  being  done  on  a  road,  any  passerby 
could  be  stopped  and  forced  to  help  for  a  while,  before 
being  permitted  to  proceed. 

To  defray  the  cost  of  various  state  enterprises,  taxes 
were  imposed  by  the  king,  a  process  described  by  Roscoe  in 
the  following  words : 

"When  the  time  to  collect  the  taxes  was  drawing  near, 
the  King,  the  Katikiro  and  the  Kimbugwe  fixed  the  exact 
date,  and  it  was  then  announced  in  the  council  that  the 
taxes  would  be  collected  on  such  and  such  a  date.  The  king 
appointed  the  special  tax  collector  for  each  district;  to  these 
district  collectors,  the  Katikiro,  the  Kimbugwe,  the  Queen 
and  the  King's  mother,  each  added  their  own  representa- 
tives, and  the  district  chief  also  added  a  representative. 
These  six  men  who  were  appointed  to  a  district  went  to 
each  part  of  it;  the  principal  sub-chiefs  were  first  visited 
by  them  in  person,  but  they  chose  and  sent  other  messengers 
to  each  of  the  less  important  chiefs.  The  King's  tax  col- 
lector and  his  associates  returned  to  the  district  chief's  en- 
closure, where  they  were  entertained  while  the  work  was 
being  carried  out  by  their  men.  The  first  thing  to  be  done 
was  to  count  the  houses  in  each  sub-district,  and  to  ascertain 
the  number  of  the  inhabitants;  the  tax  collector  would  then 
settle  with  each  chief  what  amount  he  was  expected  to  send 
to  the  King.  One  cowry-shell  was  brought  by  the  collector's 
assistants  to  represent  each  cow,  and  after  these  had  b'een 


UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN  STATE  95 

counted,  the  assistants  went  back  to  collect  the  tax.  The 
amount  usually  demanded  was  a  fixed  number  of  cattle  from 
each  sub-chief,  and  a  fixed  number  of  bark  cloth  and  one 
hundred  cowry-shells  from  each  peasant;  of  the  smaller 
chiefs  each  paid  a  number  of  goats  and  also  a  few  hoes. 
It  frequently  took  two  months,  or  more,  to  collect  the  taxes, 
because  the  bark  cloth  and  hoes  had  to  be  made,  and  the 
cattle  had  to  be  collected.  When  this  was  accomplished, 
each  servant  took  his  amount  on  the  appointed  day  to  the 
district  chief;  the  cowry-shells  and  bark  cloth  were  counted 
and  tied  up  in  bundles,  while  the  cattle  were  sent  on  ahead 
to  travel  slowly  to  the  capitol.  The  King's  tax  collector 
took  the  whole  amount  to  the  Katikiro,  who  had  to  examine 
it,  and  to  hear  the  details  as  to  the  number  of  houses  and 
people  in  each  sub-district,  and  as  to  how  many  bark  cloths 
and  cowry-shells  had  been  collected  from  them.  If  the 
amount  was  correct,  the  Katikiro  took  the  whole  to  the 
King;  if  it  was  wrong,  the  tax  collector  was  required  to  re- 
turn to  the  district  and  to  gather  what  was  missing,  accord- 
ing to  instructions  which  he  received  from  the  Katikiro. 
The  chief  of  a  district  received  a  portion  of  the  taxes  for 
himself  and  for  his  sub-chiefs;  the  King  took  half  for  him- 
self, while  the  Katikiro,  the  Kimbugwe,  the  Queen  and  the 
King's  mother  also  had  their  portions.  Each  sub-chief  was 
given  a  small  portion  of  the  amount  which  came  from  his 
own  district;  the  King,  the  Queen,  the  King's  mother,  the 
Katikiro  and  the  Kimbugwe,  kept  the  whole  of  what  came 
from  their  own  estates,  in  addition  to  the  portion  which 
they  received  from  the  taxes  of  the  entire  country.  The 
tributary  states  paid  their  tribute  through  the  chiefs  under 
whom  they  were  placed,  making  their  payments  with  cattle, 
slaves,  ivory,  cowry-shells,  salt,  hoes,  etc." 

For  minor  services  the  king  was  wont  to  secure  young 
boys  and  girls  from  people  in  different  parts  of  the  country. 
The  relevant  statistics  were  obtained  by  a  representative 
of  the  king,  who  would  induce  people  to  supply  information 
about  their  neighbors  and  acquaintances.    Then  an  arrange- 


96  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

ment  was  made  with  the  district  chief,  and  the  children  were 
furnished.  The  king  would  keep  for  himself  the  boys  and 
girls  he  liked  best,  turning  the  others  over  to  his  mother, 
the  Queen,  the  Katikiro  and  the  Kimbugwe. 

A  great  many  individuals  throughout  the  land  lived  on 
the  private  estates  of  chiefs,  working,  and  on  occasion  fight- 
ing for  them  in  compensation  for  the  tenure. 

A  considerable  variety  of  crimes  were  recognized  before 
the  courts  held  by  the  sub-chiefs,  the  chiefs,  the  prime 
minister  and  the  king.  Distinction  was  made  between 
murder  and  homicide,  murder  involving  malicious  intent. 
For  homicide  the  fine  was  twenty  cows,  twenty  goats,  twenty 
bark  cloths  and  twenty  women.  The  whole  fine  was  never 
paid,  but  only  a  part,  while  the  rest  remained  unpaid  for 
years,  until  a  debt  was  incurred  by  the  creditor  gens — for 
these  were  gentile  matters — whereupon  the  two  debts  were 
cancelled. 

The  Baganda  believe  in  spirit  and  ghosts,  fetiches  and 
amulets.  There  is  also  a  pantheon  of  higher  deities.  The 
main  national  deities  are  in  the  king's  charge.  Their  temples 
are  situated  upon  the  chiefs'  estates  in  the  different  dis- 
tricts of  Uganda,  the  owner  of  an  estate  usually  officiating 
as  the  priest  in  the  local  temple.  With  him,  one  or  more 
mediums  are  associated,  who  have  the  power  of  communicat- 
ing directly  with  the  god.  The  spot  occupied  by  a  temple 
is  sacred,  so  is  the  person  of  the  priest;  sacred  are  also  his 
robes,  all  ceremonial  paraphernalia,  and  the  like.  Persons 
become  mediums  accidentally.  If  a  man  or  a  woman  acts  as 
if  possessed  by  a  spirit,  this  is  interpreted  as  a  call  from  the 
god,  and  the  person  is  sent  to  the  temple. 

Before  entering  into  communication  with  the  deity,  the 
medium  takes  a  smoke  of  tobacco  and  drinks  a  cup  of  beer, 
after  which  a  frenzied  condition  sets  in,  during  which  com- 
munication with  the  god  is  established.  After  the  perform- 
ance, all  memory  of  the  incidents  of  the  trance  disappears 
from  the  medium's  mind.    A  medium  is  usually  a  man,  but 


UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN  STATE  97 

women  mediums  are  not  unknown,  in  which  case  the  woman 
is  called  the  wife  of  the  god. 

When  a  woman  asks  a  god  for  girls  and  the  request  is 
granted,  the  girls  are  dedicated  to  the  god,  and  when 
weaned,  they  are  taken  to  the  temple.  These  girls  take  care 
of  the  sacred  fire  as  well  as  of  the  grass  floor  covering,  and 
guard  the  sacred  pipes  and  tobacco.  This  continues  until 
maturity  is  reached,  when  they  are  permitted  to  leave  the 
temple  and  marry. 

Priests  and  mediums  are  not  the  only  religious  officials, 
for  medicine-men  are  also  known  who,  in  some  respects,  are 
regarded  as  more  powerful  than  the  priests.  They  make 
amulets  and  fetiches,  an  accomplishment  they  share  with  no 
one  else,  cure  sickness  and  act  as  surgeons,  particularly 
when  the  need  arises  to  stop  the  flow  of  blood  after  a  wound 
has  been  inflicted  in  battle,  or  a  limb  has  been  amputated  in 
punishment  for  an  offense.  If  not  for  the  medicine-man's 
assistance,  such  individuals  would  be  likely  to  bleed  to  death. 
Medicine-men  also  exorcise  ghosts. 

One  of  the  principal  gods  was  Mukasa,  the  god  of  plenty, 
who  sent  food,  cattle  and  children.  A  much  less  important 
deity  was  Nulwanga,  Mukasa's  chief  wife,  who  assisted 
childless  women  to  become  mothers.  When  war  was  waged 
by  the  Baganda,  Kibuka,  the  god  of  war,  was  served  by  as 
many  as  forty  mediums,  but  at  other  times  only  one  of  these 
was  in  attendance.  Then  there  was  Kaumpuli,  the  god  of 
the  plague,  and  Katonda,  the  creator,  called  the  "Father  of 
the  Gods,"  who  was  believed  to  have  created  all  things; 
outside  of  that,  little  was  known  about  him  and  but  slight 
respect  was  shown  him.  Finally,  there  was  Walumbe,  the 
god  of  death. 

The  belief  in  ghosts  was  general  and  they  were  greatly 
feared.  In  their  habits  and  wants,  ghosts  were  like  men. 
They  were,  moreover,  shaped  like  their  former  owners,  so 
that,  when  a  limb  was  amputated  in  punishment  for  an  of- 
fense, the  ghost  of  the  culprit  was  similarly  afflicted:  hence 
the  general  dread  of  such  amputations.    Ghosts  were  woat 


98  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

to  play  about  the  graves  as  well  as  among  the  trees  in  the 
glowing  sunshine  of  midday,  and  children  were  warned 
against  them  at  these  times.  Ghosts  clung  with  a  special 
tenacity  to  the  lower  jawbone,  and  if  this  was  removed, 
the  ghosts  would  follow  it  anywhere,  hence  the  jawbones  of 
kings  were  preserved  for  many  generations  and  their  power 
was  great. 

The  king  was  expected  to  visit  the  temple  of  his  predeces- 
sor, which  was  in  charge  of  the  dowager  queen.  When 
about  to  leave,  the  king  would  suddenly  give  an  order  that 
all  persons  who  had  not  passed  a  certain  spot  arbitrarily 
named  by  him,  should  be  seized.  This  order  was  at  once 
carried  out  by  his  bodyguard,  and  the  persons  seized  were 
bound  and  gagged.  Then  they  were  sacrificed  to  the  ghost 
of  the  dead  king,  so  that  their  ghosts  might  administer 
to  his. 

Lions,  leopards,  crocodiles,  buffaloes  and  other  animals 
had  ghosts  of  their  own.  A  special  fear  was  aroused  by  the 
ghosts  of  light  colored  persons,  of  persons  born  feet  first, 
of  those  who  were  strangled  at  birth,  and  of  suicides. 
The  bodies  of  such  persons  were  buried  at  cross-roads,  and 
grass  was  thrown  on  their  graves  by  passersby  to  appease 
the  ghosts.  If  a  suicide  was  committed  in  a  house,  the 
house  was  destroyed,  or  if  a  man  hanged  himself  on  a  tree, 
the  tree  was  uprooted  and  burned  with  the  body. 

There  were  also  water  and  forest  spirits,  some  of  whom 
had  priests  as  well  as  temples. 

Great  powers  were  ascribed  to  certain  artificial  objects, 
usually  of  portable  size,  made  from  definite  substances  com- 
bined in  a  fixed  way.  These  were  the  fetiches,  the  prepara- 
tion of  which  was  a  secret  art,  usually  known  to  no  one  but 
the  medicine-men.  One  of  these  was  Mbajwe,  the  king's 
main  fetich,  to  which  were  attached  a  temple,  a  priest  and 
a  female  medium.  This  fetich  was  made  of  rope  in  the 
likeness  of  a  serpent,  with  a  head  formed  of  clay  and  fash- 
ioned like  that  of  a  serpent.  A  number  of  individuals,  each 
belonging  to  a  particular  gens,  had  duties  associated  with 


UGANDA,  AN  AFRICAN  STATE  99 

this  fetich.  In  addition  to  all  of  these  deities  and  sacred 
spots,  there  were  thirteen  sacrificial  places,  at  which  hu- 
man sacrifices  were  made.  These  were  controlled  by  cer- 
tain gods,  who,  it  was  thought,  informed  the  king  how  many 
victims  were  required.  Each  sacrificial  spot  was  in  charge 
of  a  custodian,  while  the  more  important  ones  had  their  own 
temples  with  attendant  priests.  A  large  number  of  human 
victims  was  demanded  for  some  of  these  sacrificial  cere- 
monies. 


CHAPTER  V 

CENTRAL  AUSTRALIA,  A  MAGIC  RIDDEN 
COMMUNITY 

The  material  civilization  of  Central  Australia  and  of 
Australia  as  a  whole  is  very  crude.  The  negatives  pre- 
dominate. There  is  no  pottery,  only  very  crude  basketry. 
Agriculture  does  not  occur,  not  even  in  the  early  form  of 
garden  culture,  which  is  characteristic  of  wide  areas  in 
Melanesia  and  Polynesia.  Domestication  appears  only  in 
the  case  of  the  dingo,  an  Australian  variety  of  wolf,  which, 
caught  young  and  brought  up  under  the  care  of  a  boy  or  a 
woman,  develops  into  a  fairly  manageable  dog.  Some  ani- 
mals, such  as  the  cassawary,  are  kept  as  pets,  but  these  are 
not  infrequently  permitted  to  starve  from  neglect. 

Thus  the  life  preserving  activities  are  few  and  simple. 
The  women  gather  yams,  roots  and  berries;  the  men  hunt; 
while  fishing  is  once  more  in  the  hands  of  women,  who  use 
crudely  woven  baskets  with  which  they  catch  the  fish.  In 
cases  where  a  creek  is  narrow  and  shallow,  a  hedge  is  built 
nearly  across  it,  and  the  congestion  of  fish  thus  brought 
about  often  makes  it  possible  to  catch  it  with  the  bare 
hands.  The  yams  are  dug  by  means  of  a  pointed  stick  with 
a  charred  end;  in  case  of  necessity,  the  same  contrivance  is 
also  used  as  a  weapon.  It  is  reported  that  in  the  fights  be- 
tween groups  of  men  and  groups  of  women  which  occur  in 
some  sections  of  Australia,  the  latter,  armed  with  digging 
sticks  are  able  to  hold  their  own  against  the  men  who  wield 
their  clubs. 

Animals  in  the  open  are  often  hunted  by  means  of  a  sur- 
round. The  whole  tribe  participates,  including  the  old 
men,  women  and  children.  A  wide  circle  is  formed,  the 
participants  making  as  much  noise  as  possible.  As  the 
circle  gradually  narrows,  the  animals  inside  the  circle  be- 


CENTRAL  AUSTRALIA  loi 

come  aroused,  and  as  they  jump  from  the  grass  and  run  to 
and  fro,  they  are  slaughtered  without  great  difficulty. 

The  kangaroo  is  hunted  in  more  individual  fashion.  In 
chasing  one,  a  man  may  want  the  assistance  of  a  woman 
and  one  or  more  children,  or  he  may  follow  it  all  alone. 
When  a  kangaroo  is  sighted  the  hunter  follows  it,  trying 
hard  not  to  arouse  its  attention.  If  the  kangaroo  becomes 
suspicious,  the  hunter  stops  short  and  remains  motionless. 
After  a  while  the  animal  regains  its  calm  and  the  chase 
IS  resumed.  If  the  man  succeeds  in  coming  near  enough 
to  throw  a  club  or  a  large  boomerang  or  spear,  he  does  so- 
Usually,  however,  the  hunter  fails  to  bring  the  animal  down 
without  a  prolonged  chase.  Often  he  follows  it  for  hours, 
a  feat  requiring  great  endurance..  During  the  last  stage  of 
the  chase,  the  kangaroo  is  wont  to  rise  on  its  haunches,  and 
with  its  back  against  a  large  tree,  await  the  approaching 
hunter.  The  latter  must  be  careful  to  avoid  the  dangerous 
hind  legs  of  the  animal;  outside  of  this,  no  difficulty  is  ex- 
perienced in  clubbing  it  to  death.  To  bring  down  a  kangaroo 
thus  single-handed  is  no  small  feat,  and  a  man  who  succeeds 
in  doing  so  is  greatly  esteemed  by  the  natives. 

The  habitations  of  these  natives  are  of  the  crudest  kind: 
th^re  are  no  huts  of  any  sort,  the  only  protection  against 
inclement  weather  consisting  of  a  windshield  made  of  longi- 
tudinal pieces  of  bark  supported  in  a  slanting  position  by  a 
number  of  poles.  When  in  use,  the  shield  is  turned  about 
so  as  to  offer  protection  against  the  wind. 

Navigation  is  very  little  developed.  Australia  is  a  land 
of  few  rivers.  A  large  number  of  these  are  so-called  creeks 
which  have  the  distracting  habit  of  losing  their  way  to  the 
ocean.  Soon  after  the  beginning  of  the  dry  season  they  be- 
come transformed  into  elongated  pools  and  finally  dry  out 
altogether. 

The  only  canoes  reported  from  Australia  are  two  bark 
varieties,  both  crudely  made.  One  is  cut  whole  from  the 
bark  of  a  large  tree,  the  ends  then  being  tied  together  with 
bark  strings.    The  other  is  made  of  several  pieces  of  bark 


I02  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

sewed  together  as  a  canoe.  Even  these  canoes  may  repre- 
sent but  a  local  adaptation  derived  from  the  neighboring 
Melanesians. 

The  list  of  weapons  is  fairly  extensive  but  reveals  one 
interesting  gap :  the  bow  and  arrow,  which  are  almost  uni- 
versal in  early  communities,  do  not  occur  in  Australia.  A 
stone  knife,  on  the  other  hand,  is  ubiquitous  here.  Then 
there  are  two  varieties  of  spears,  a  long  one  and  a  shorter 
variety,  the  so-called  javelin;  two  varieties  of  shields,  an 
assortment  of  clubs,  and  the  boomerang.  The  spears  are 
either  thrown  directly  by  the  hand  or  a  spear-thrower  is 
used,  an  ingenious  contrivance  which  occurs  also  in  New 
Guinea,  as  well  as  in  a  region  far  removed  from  the  South 
Seas,  namely,  as  was  shown  before,  among  the  Eslcimo  of 
arctic  America.  Of  the  two  varieties  of  shields  the  wider 
is  used  for  protection  against  spears,  while  the  narrower 
shields  are  employed  against  clubs.  The  latter  variety  of 
shields  represents  but  a  slightly  transformed  club  with  a 
handle  in  the  middle,  and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  this 
shield  has  actually  evolved  from  a  club. 

As  to  the  boomerang,  several  varieties  of  this  curious 
weapon  are  in  use.  The  larger  ones,  with  or  without  a 
thickening  at  one  end,  are  often  used  as  clubs  in  fighting 
men  or  large  animals;  while  the  smaller  ones  are  flat  elon- 
gated boards,  straight  or  curved  in  the  shape  of  a  banana. 
When  used  by  the  natives  for  hunting  small  animals  they 
are  thrown  with  remarkable  accuracy  and  power.  A  very 
small  straight  boomerang  is  employed  for  killing  birds.  The 
so-called  returning  boomerang,  a  variety  responsible  for  the 
world-wide  repute  of  this  device,  consists  of  a  curved  board 
with  a  double  twist,  one  end  having  a  twist  in  one  direction, 
the  other  in  the  opposite  one.  When  this  contrivance  is 
thrown  In  a  certain  prescribed  way,  it  encounters  compli- 
cated aerial  resistances  in  its  flight,  due  to  the  twists.  As  a 
result,  it  performs  curious  manoeuvres  in  the  air  before  fall- 
ing to  the  ground,  and  may,  on  occasion,  return  to  the  very 
spot  from  which  it  was  thrown.    This  type  of  boomerang, 


CENTRAL  AUSTRALIA  103 

however,  is  not  used  for  fighting  or  hunting,  but  only  for 
target  practise  and  like  tests  of  skill. 

It  appears  from  all  this  that  the  Australian  has  not  ad- 
vanced very  far  in  material  accomplishments.  There  are, 
nevertheless,  certain  features  in  his  economic  life  which  be- 
speak lengthy  historic  development,  and  therefore  deserve 
special  notice.  It  has  been  reported,  especially  by  the  older 
writers,  that  in  various  districts  of  aboriginal  Australia  oc- 
casional markets  are  held,  to  which  different  commodities 
are  brought  for  barter.  There  is,  however,  no  medium  of 
exchange — no  "money"  of  any  sort — so  that  the  transac- 
tions of  necessity  take  the  form  of  an  exchange  of  one  com- 
modity for  another.  It  appears,  on  such  occasions,  that  in- 
habitants of  particular  localities  are  known  for  their  skill  in 
preparing  this  or  that  tool  or  weapon,  and  that  their  prod- 
ucts are  sought  in  return  for  others,  in  which  another  local 
group  specializes  to  a  similar  extent.  The  period  for  hold- 
ing a  market  having  been  agreed  upon  by  the  old  men  of  a 
local  group,  the  decision  is  announced  to  neighboring  tribes 
by  messengers,  who  carry  with  them  little  sticks  in  which 
sets  of  notches  are  used  as  mnemonic  devices  for  memoriz- 
ing the  message.^  Another  curious  feature  is  the  following: 
the  tribes  living  south  of  the  central  area  and  east  of  Lake 
Eyre,  have  a  great  fondness  for  a  certain  root,  pituri,  which 
they  chew.  This  root  does  not  grow  in  the  area  where  it  is 
in  such  demand.  It  is  secured  by  an  expedition  of  young  and 
mature  men,  heavily  armed,  who  fight  their  way  through 
hostile  territory  until  a  certain  locality  in  central  Queens- 
land is  reached,  where  the  root  is  found  in  large  quantity. 
Huge  amounts  of  it  are  usually  gathered,  notwithstanding  the 
opposition  of  the  local  residents,  and  then  the  expedition  re- 
turns, trading  off  part  of  their  booty  on  the  way  and  fur- 
nishing the  remainder  to  their  own  group,  where  part  of  the 
supply  is  consumed,  while  quantities  are  passed  on  to  tribes 
further  south.     Similar  expeditions  are  undertaken  to  the 


*For  further  particulars  about  trading  and  messengers  see  pp.  277  sq. 


104  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

southern  coast  in  search  of  red  and  yellow  ochre,  a  mineral 
substance,  which  is  used  by  the  natives  for  coloring  pur- 
poses at  their  ceremonies. 

The  decorative  art  is  also  quite  simple.  It  consists,  in 
the  main,  of  rectilinear  or  curvilinear  figures,  etched  or 
painted  on  flat  wooden  boards,  the  so-called  churinga.  The 
principal  decorative  patterns  consist  of  concentric  circles, 
spirals,  parallel  lines  and  dots;  here  and  there  a  footprint 
of  an  emu  appears  as  the  only  representative  of  realism.  In 
addition  to  these  decorations,  designs  are  made  on  the 
ground  on  ceremonial  occasions  by  means  of  the  application 
of  ochre  and  bird  down,  the  patterns  in  these  designs  being 
almost  without  exception  purely  geometrical.  Realistic  rep- 
resentations are  apparently  foreign  to  Australia,  unless  one 
accepts  as  indigenous  certain  figures  of  men  and  animals 
which  were  discovered  in  caves  in  certain  districts.  It  is, 
however,  almost  certain  that  these  figures  are  of  foreign 
origin. 

As  if  to  compensate  for  the  unimpressive  development  of 
decorative  art,  the  natives  have  reached  wellnigh  artistic 
perfection  in  mimicking  the  voices  and  motions  of  birds  and 
animals.  These  dramatizations  occur  as  one  phase  of  the 
totemic  ceremonies  as  well  as  during  hunting  expeditions, 
when  the  kangaroo,  emu  or  some  other  creature  misled  by 
the  clever  mimicry  of  the  hunter,  permits  him  to  approach 
within  striking  distance.  Australian  children  can  often  be 
seen  absorbed  in  games  in  which  these  dramatizations  of 
the  grown-ups  are  early  acquired  and  perfected. 

The  religious  and  magical  beliefs  and  practices  are  multi- 
form and  play  a  most  conspicuous  part  in  the  lives  of  the 
people.  A  general  animism  prevails,  which  here  takes  the 
form  of  a  belief  in  mostly  evil  spirits  who  frighten  the  na- 
tives, especially  the  women,  by  their  occasional  appearance, 
or  merely  by  the  sounds  they  are  supposed  to  produce.  There 
is  also  a  belief  in  a  superior  deity  of  semi-animal  semi-hu- 
man shape  and  large  size,  who  is  supposed  to  have  created 
all  things  in  nature  with  the  exception  of  man,  but  whose 


CENTRAL  AUSTRALIA  105 

activities  have  ceased  at  an  early  period,  after  which  his 
contact  with  humans  also  came  to  a  close.  He  is  not  prayed 
or  sacrificed  to,  and  is  thought  to  be  indifferent  toward  hu- 
man affairs;  nevertheless,  he  continues  to  be  regarded  as  the 
supreme  divinity.  Whether  this  peculiar  superior  being  is 
altogether  the  product  of  the  native  imagination  or  rep- 
resents but  a  transformation  of  the  God  of  the  missionaries, 
must  for  the  present  remain  undecided.^ 

Magic  is  practiced  constantly  and  by  every  one.  Most 
diseases  and  almost  all  cases  of  death  are  ascribed  to  hostile 
magic.  Every  Australian  can  use  magical  means  for  such 
purposes,  while  curative  magic  seems  to  be  restricted,  at 
least  in  some  localities,  to  the  medicine-men.  A  particularly 
common  method  of  exorcising  a  spell  consists  in  the  so-called 
"pointing."  A  short  stick  or  bone  is  sharpened  at  one  end; 
then,  while  an  incantation  is  sung  over  it,  it  is  buried  in  the 
ground  often  in  view  of  the  victim,  who  is  seen  sitting  in 
camp  quite  ignorant  of  the  procedure.  As  a  result  of  this 
magic  act  the  victim  is  expected  to  fall  ill,  or,  in  some  cases, 
even  to  die.  The  practice  of  bone  "pointing"  is  restricted 
to  men;  women  have  magical  facilities  of  their  own.  Just  as 
the  prospective  victim  leaves  the  camp,  a  woman  will  blow 
on  her  fingers  and  then  claw  in  the  air,  moving  her  hand 
up  and  down  with  little  jerks.  The  victim,  who  may  be  a 
man  or  perhaps  a  younger  wife  of  her  husband,  is  seriously 
afflicted  after  this  and  may  die.  Or  a  woman  may  take  her 
yam  stick  into  the  bush,  sing  over  it  and  go  through  a  series 
of  motions,  as  if  she  were  pulling  something  toward  her. 
The  effect  of  this  procedure  is  fatal.  The  woman's  head- 
ring  is  an  excellent  cure  for  headache  if  worn  on  the  head 
by  the  husband.  In  case  of  abdominal  pain  It  may  be  worn 
as  a  belt  with  a  similarly  salutary  effect.  Numerous  ills  are 
produced  by  quartz  crystals  being  projected  into  a  person's 
body.     The  magician  stands   at  some  distance   from  his 

*A  detailed  discussion  of  this  "All  Father"  idea,  the  presence  of  which 
has  also  been  reported  from  districts  other  than  Australia,  will  be  found  in 
Father  W.  Schmidt's  book,  "L'origine  de  I'idee  de  Dieu."     See  also  p.  211. 


io6  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

enemy,  holding  a  number  of  crystals  in  one  or  both  hands ; 
these  he  pretends  to  throw  in  the  direction  of  the  victim. 
The  crystals  disappear  and  are  supposed  to  have  entered  the 
body  of  the  unfortunate  individual,  who  may  become  seri- 
ously ill  or  die,  unless  a  medicine-man  intervenes  in  time 
and  removes  the  crystals.  A  somewhat  elaborate  perform- 
ance is  undertaken  to  deprive  a  man  of  his  kidney  fat  by 
means  of  a  special  strangling  cord,  so  the  natives  believe. 
The  cord  is  thrown  over  the  head  of  the  man  overtaken 
while  asleep;  thus  temporarily  reduced  to  unconsciousness, 
he  is  carried  to  the  bush  and  cut  open;  then  his  kidney  fat  is 
removed.  On  awakening  he  believes  he  has  had  a  bad 
dream.  Before  long,  however,  he  falls  sick  and  is  bound  to 
die  unless  a  powerful  medicine-man  comes  to  his  rescue.^ 

A  medicine-man,  whose  power  is  usually  believed  to  reside 
in  huge  quantities  of  quartz  crystals  or  other  sacred  stones 
which  fill  his  body,  is  himself  subjected  to  various  restricting 
rules  of  behavior.  He  must,  for  example,  not  eat  too  much 
fat,  nor  allow  a  big  ant  to  bite  him,  for  should  he  do  so, 
the  stones  would  leave  his  body.  Also,  he  must  not  drink 
anything  hot.  It  is  recorded  that  a  medicine-man  who  drank 
a  cup  of  hot  tea  given  to  him  by  some  white  man,  lost  his 
power. 

Medicine-men  among  the  Arunta  in  Central  Australia  are 
made  in  two  ways,  by  spirits  and  by  other  medicine-men, 
the  former  method  being  regarded  as  the  more  powerful. 
Initiation  by  spirits  is  believed  by  the  natives  to  take  place 
in  the  following  way.  A  man  is  first  taken  away  into  the 
bush  or  to  a  cave  where  a  spirit  resides.  The  latter  then 
throws  a  spear  at  the  man,  which  pierces  his  neck  and 
tongue  and  passes  out  through  the  mouth,  leaving 
a  hole  in  the  tongue.  Then  another  spear  is  thrown  which 
pierces  his  head  from  ear  to  ear.  After  this  the  man  re- 
mains unconscious.    His  body  is  opened  by  the  spirit,  all  the 

'Instances  such  as  this  are  especially  instructive  insofar  aa  light  is  thrown 
on  the  relation  of  magical  beliefs  to  experience,  for  in  cases  like  the  above 
no  experience  whatsoever  can  be  held  responsible  for  the  formation  of  the 
belief. 


CENTRAL  AUSTRALIA  107 

insides  are  removed  and  others  put  in  their  place  together 
with  a  large  quantity  of  sacred  stones.  When  the  man  re- 
turns to  camp  he  is  for  a  while  demented.  When  he  finally 
comes  to,  it  is  understood  that  a  new  medicine-man  has  been 
made,  provided  the  hole  in  his  tongue  remains  open;  should 
it  disappear,  the  initiation  is  not  recognized  as  valid. 

When  the  initiation  is  in  the  hands  of  other  medicine- 
men, the  principal  processes  involved  consist  in  the  rubbing 
of  the  arms  and  legs  as  well  as  of  the  abdomen  of  the  can- 
didate with  stones.  Considerable  pressure  is  applied  so  that 
blood  is  drawn.  Then  stones  are  pressed  against  the  scalp 
of  the  initiate,  with  similar  effect.  Then  some  hair  string 
is  tied  around  the  middle  joint  of  the  first  finger  of  the 
right  hand  and  a  pointed  stick  is  pressed  under  the  nail  and 
into  the  flesh  forming  a  hole,  whereupon  the  pretense  is 
made  of  pressing  stones  into  this  hole.  Quartz  crystals  are 
also  thrown  at  the  candidate  from  a  distance.  When  this 
process  is  completed,  the  medicine-man  is  made. 

One  of  the  important  functions  of  a  medicine-man  consists 
in  discovering  who  is  responsible  for  the  sickness  or  death 
of  an  individual.  The  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  these 
magical  devices  is  absolute,  and  the  natives  who  really  have 
a  most  remarkable  resistance  against  wounds,  have  been 
known  to  die  from  relatively  slight  injuries  when  they  be- 
lieved the  weapons  that  had  caused  the  wound  to  have  been 
charmed  or  sung  over.  An  universally  practiced  method 
of  curing  a  variety  of  diseases  consists  in  the  sucking  of  the 
afflicted  spot  by  a  medicine-man.  Then  one  or  more  quartz 
crystals  are  produced,  which  are  believed  to  be  extracted 
from  the  patient's  body;  whereupon  a  cure  ensues.  Should 
there  be  failure,  it  is  attributed  without  hesitation  to  the 
hostile  workings  of  a  more  powerful  magician,  or  to  the 
fact  that  a  vital  organ  has  been  affected.  It  must  be  noted 
in  this  connection  that  the  medicine-man  who  must,  of 
course,  be  aware  of  the  sleight-of-hand  involved  in  all 
such  cases,  will,  when  himself  afflicted,  not  hesitate  to  ap- 


io8  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

peal  to  another  medicine-man  for  assistance,  not  infre^ 
quently  with  satisfactory  results.^ 

The  social  and  ceremonial  organization  of  these  people 
stands  in  strange  contrast  to  the  crudeness  of  their  material 
arts.  Each  tribe  is  divided  into  a  large  number  of  clans  or 
gentes,  uniformly  named  after  animals  or  birds.  The  in- 
dividuals of  a  clan  are  not  segregated  in  one  locality,  but  are 
often  distributed  over  a  number  of  widely  separated  local 
groups.  The  members  of  each  clan  regard  themselves  as 
spiritually  associated  with  a  number  of  ancestors,  half-hu- 
man half-animal  creatures,  who  lived  in  the  mythological 
period,  the  alcheringa.  These  ancestors  travelled  about  the 
country  performing  magical  ceremonies;  or,  in  other  ver- 
sions of  the  myth,  they  were  persecuted  by  hunters.  At 
certain  places  they  stopped,  exhausted,  and  disappeared  into 
the  ground;  whereupon  there  arose  on  the  spot  a  sacred 
tree,  rock,  or  water  hole.  These  sacred  spots,  or  oknanikilla, 
are  ever  since  haunted  by  the  spiritual  descendants  of  the 
distant  semi-human  semi-animal  ancestors.  Among  the  cen- 
tral Australians  there  is  a  belief  that  women  passing  by 
these  charmed  localities  will  be  entered  into  by  the  spirit 
children  or  ratapa,  and  that  the  child  subsequently  born  will 
be  a  spiritual  descendant  of  a  mythological  creature  who 
had  entered  the  ground  at  that  particular  spot. 

Another  belief  current  in  this  area  is  in  the  magic  power 
of  the  churinga,  sacred  wooden  or  stone  slabs,  two  of  which 
are  owned  by  each  individual,  one  large  and  one  smaller 
one.  Women  as  well  as  men  have  such  churinga,  but  a 
woman  may  never  see  hers.  The  churinga  are  strictly 
guarded  in  particular  localities;  and  the  old  men  see  to  it 


*This  mixture  of  sleight-of-hand  with  a  bona  fide  belief  in  the  powers  of 
magic,  must  be  noted  as  an  interesting  feature  characteristic  of  such  pheno- 
mena in  their  primitive  as  well  as  in  their  modern  setting.  Thus,  Eusapia 
Palladino,  the  renowned  Italian  medium,  always  admitted  that  she  practiced 
sleight-of-hand  whenever  possible,  by  way  of  improving  her  business,  tak- 
ing especial  delight  therein  when  the  victims  of  her  deceit  were  erudite 
professors ;  at  the  same  time,  she  had  a  firm  belief  in  the  genuineness  of  her 
supernatural  powers. 


CENTRAL  AUSTRALIA  109 

that  no  woman  ever  approaches  these  secret  places.  The 
sacred  objects  are  produced  only  at  totemic  rites  and  some 
other  ceremonial  occasions,  and  are  always  handled  with 
great  circumspection.  A  churinga  is  supposed  to  represent 
the  second  body,  or  as  some  believe,  one  of  the  souls  of  an 
individual. 

The  members  of  a  clan  treat  the  animal  after  which  the 
clan  is  named  with  consideration  and  respect.  They  are 
forbidden  to  kill  or  eat  it.  Their  attitude,  however,  cannot 
be  designated  as  one  of  veneration.  Instead,  there  is  an 
emphatic  recognition  that  the  animal  or  bird  is  a  relative, 
an  intimate  of  the  clanmates.  Each  clan  has  the  power  of 
increasing  the  supply  of  its  sacred  animal,  the  totem,  by 
means  of  a  magical  ceremony,  the  intichiuma.  In  the  course 
of  an  intichiuma,  the  male  members  of  a  clan — for  women 
are  never  admitted — ^properly  decorated  with  bird  down 
and  ochre,  dramatize  the  actions  and  cries  of  a  particular 
animal  or  bird.  There  is  some  blood  letting;  the  blood 
drawn  from  the  arms  of  the  participants  by  means  of  sharp 
stones,  is  permitted  to  flow  over  the  ceremonial  ground  and 
is  then  spilled  over  the  surrounding  rocks.  All  this  is  sup- 
posed to  precipitate  the  multiplication  of  the  particular  to- 
temic animal.  On  this  occasion,  one  representative  of  the 
species  is  killed  and,  having  been  first  tasted  by  the  head 
man  of  the  clan,  the  alatunja,  is  then  partaken  of  sparingly 
by  the  other  members.  This,  however,  is  the  only  occasion 
on  which  clanmates  may  eat  of  their  totemic  animal.  The 
churinga  are  produced  in  the  course  of  the  ceremony. 

Protracted  series  of  such  ceremonies  are  performed  by  the 
natives  at  the  end  of  the  long  period  of  desiccation  and  im- 
mediately preceding  the  season  of  torrential  rains,  as  a  con- 
sequence of  which,  as  has  often  been  described,  the  faunal 
and  floral  aspects  of  a  Central  Australian  landscape  become 
transfigured  as  if  by  magic.  In  this  case,  then,  the  natives 
have  good  experiential  grounds  for  preserving  their  faith 
in  the  potency  of  magical  rites. 

The  totem  of  each  clan  stands  in  a  certain  relation  to 


no  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

a  number  of  other  animals  and  birds,  the  so-called  "asso- 
ciated totems,"  which,  while  not  as  important  as  the  main 
totem,  have  a  sacredness  of  their  own.  In  the  mythological 
tales  current  among  the  people,  these  animals  always  figure 
together  with  the  totem  as  participants  in  the  plot. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  clans  of  this  region  have  come  to 
function  as  magic  working  associations.  As  to  the  control 
of  marriage,  it  is  here  connected  with  social  units  of  an  en- 
tirely different  order,  the  so-called  phratries,  classes  and  sub- 
classes. 

The  matrimonial  systems  of  Central,  Eastern  and  South- 
ern Australia  fall  into  three  main  types.  Type  one  is  repre- 
sented by  such  tribes  as  the  Dieri  and  other  tribes  further 
south,  and  is  characterized  by  the  presence  of  two  phra- 
tries subdivided  into  clans  or  gentes.  Here  the  phratries 
control  intermarriage.  Type  two  is  represented  by  such 
tribes  as  the  Kamilaroi  and  other  eastern  tribes,  where  the 
two  phratries  with  their  clans  are  further  subdivided  into 
two  classes  each.  Here  the  classes  control  intermarriage. 
Type  three,  finally,  is  represented  by  tribes  such  as  the  War- 
ramunga  and  other  tribes  of  the  Center  and  North,  among 
whom  the  classes  are  once  more  subdivided  into  two  sub- 
classes each.    The  latter  units  here  control  intermarriage.^ 

'The  conditions  obtaining  in  the  three  types  of  cases  may  be  visualized 
as  follows,  assuming  for  simplicity  that  the  phratry  throughout  consists  of 
three  clans.  The  actual  number  of  clans  or  gentes  in  a  phratry  is  always 
much  greater. 

Type  I  (Dieri,  etc.) 
Phratries  I  II 

Clans  a  d 

(Gentes)  b  e 

f 
1  marries  II  and  vice  versa 

Here  the  children  follow  the  phratry  and  clan  of  the  mother  (or  the  gens 

of  the  father). 

Type  II  (Kamilaroi,  etc.) 

Phratries  I  II 

Classes  A        B  '       C        D 

Clans  a  =  ai  +  a»  dx  +  di  ■=  d 

b  '=  bi  -\-  bt  ex  +  ei  =■  e 


CENTRAL   AUSTRALIA  iii 

It  seems  that  classes  and  sub-classes  have  no  other  func- 
tions except  to  control  intermarriage.  Phratries,  on  the 
other  hand,  while  always  exogamous,  insofar  as  no  mar- 
riages ever  occur  within  a  phratry,  also  have  certain  cere- 
monial functions.  Thus,  when  the  period  at  which  the  to- 
temic  rites  are  performed  is  about  to  begin,  the  members  of 
each  clan  expect  to  be  notified  by  certain  members  5f  the 
opposite  phratry  with  their  intichiuma  is  to  take  place.  The 
decoration  of  the  participants  is  another  function  of  certain 
members  of  the  opposite  phratry. 

In  addition  to  belonging  to  a  particular  gens  and  matri- 
monial class,  a  central  Australian,  before  he  becomes  a  full- 
fledged  member  of  the  community,  also  passes  through  a 
series  of  stages  marked  by  initiation  ceremonies.  As  one 
after  another  of  these  stages  is  left  behind,  there  opens  up 
before  the  boy  an  ever  widening  range  of  tribal  functions, 
ceremonial  activities  and  other  forms  of  participation  in  the 
esoteric  knowledge  and  practices  of  the  male  members  of  the 


It  will  be  seen  that  the  phratries  (I  and  II)  are  so  subdivided  into 
classes,  on  the  one  hand,  and  clans,  on  the  other,  that  each  class.  A,  B,  C  or 
D,  contains  part  of  the  members  of  several  clans,  while  each  clan  contains 
members  of  two  classes.  Class  A,  for  example,  contains  members  ai,  b\,  and 
c\,  of  clans  a,  b,  and  c,  while  clan  a  contains  members  ax  (class  A)  and 
ai  (class  B),  and  so  on. 

The  intermarriages  and  descent  of  the  children  as  to  class  can  be  rep- 
resented as  follows  (the  children  always  belonging  to  the  phratry  and  clan 
of  the  mother) : 


Fjg.   24 

That  is,  A  marries  D,  children  are  C;  C  marries  B,  children  are  A;  and 
D  marries  A,  children  are  B;  B  marries  C,  children  are  D. 


112 


EARLY    CIVILIZATION 


tribe.  He  starts  life  under  a  heavy  pressure  of  eating 
taboos,  most  of  the  available  foods  being  forbidden  to  him. 
As  the  boy  approaches  maturity,  these  prohibitions  are 
gradually  lightened;  but  only  the  old  men  are  wholly  or  al- 
most wholly  free  from  all  food  restrictions. 


Phratries 

Classes 

Sub-classes 


TrPE  III   (Warramunga,  etc.) 

I  II 


B 


Gentes 


a  ^  fli  +  fla  +  a«  +  a* 
b  =  br  +  b2+  bi  +  b, 

C  =   Ci    +    C2   +    Ct    -\-    Ci 


8 


dl    +    d2+     dt    +    d4    =    d 

ei  +  et  -\-  ez  +  e*  =  e 

u  +  u  +  u  +  U  =  f 

Here,  then,  the  condition  obtaining  in  type  two  is  further  complicated  in 
such  a  way  that  each  sub-class  contains  parts  of  the  members  of  all  the 
gentes  of  one  phratry,  while  each  gens  comprises  members  of  all  the  sub- 
classes of  one  phratry.  Thus,  sub-class  i  contains  members  ax,  (gens  a),  hi 
(gens  b) ,  and  Ci  (gens  c),  etc.,  while  gens  a  contains  members  ai  (subclass 
i),  fl2  (s.-c.  2),  az  (s.-c.  3)  and  a*  (s.-c.  4),  and  so  on.  The  marriages  and 
descent  of  children  as  to  class,  sub-class  and  phratry  can  be  represented  as 
follows,  (as  a  rule,  the  children  here  belong  to  the  gens  of  the  father,  but 
in  some  central  tribes  the  gentes  are  not  hereditary,  so  that  membership 
becomes  irregular) : 


Fig.  25 

That  is,  I  marries  5,  children  are  2 ;  2  marries  6,  children  are  i ;  5  marries 
I,  children  are  8;  8  marries  4,  children  are  5;  and  3  marries  7,  children  are 
4;  4  marries  8,  children  are  3;  7  marries  3,  children  are  6;  6  marries  2, 
children   are  7. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  how  indirectly  the  clan  or  gens  in  Australia  is  con- 
nected with  exogamy  in  its  positive  aspect,  for  among  the  tribes  of  type  III 
each  gens  contains  four  groups  of  men  and  women  whose  matrimonial 
proscriptions  and  prescriptions  are  quite  difiFerent;  among  the  tribes  of  type 
II  each  clan  contains  two  such  groups  of  men  and  women;  while  even  among 
the  tribes  of  type  I  it  is  clearly  not  the  clans  or  gentes,  a,  b,  d,  f,  etc.,  which 
define  the  matrimonial  rules  on  the  negative  or  the  positive  side,  but  the 
phratries:  no  marriage  in  your  own  phratry,  always  marry  into  the  opposite 
phratry,  is  the  law. 


CENTRAL  AUSTRALIA  113 

The  most  important  of  the  initiation  ceremonies  after 
which  the  ceremonial  cycle  is  completed,  is  the  Engwura, 
an  elaborate  series  of  rites,  usually  participated  in  by  more 
than  one  tribe.  The  central  rites  performed  on  this  occa- 
sion are  those  of  initiation,  but  in  addition,  the  totemic  cere- 
monies and  other  important  rituals  are  gone  over,  as  if  in 
rehearsal,  by  the  novitiates,  under  the  guidance  of  the  elders, 
in  order  that  the  young  men  may  become  thoroughly  versed 
in  the  often  complicated  technique  of  these  performances. 
The  initiates,  on  such  occasions,  are  profusely  decorated 
with  ochre  and  bird  down,  just  as  a.re  the  participants  in  the 
magical  ceremonies  described  above.  There  is,  however, 
this  difference,  that  in  the  Engwura  ceremony  no  relation 
whatsoever  exists  between  the  totem  of  an  individual  and 
the  designs  used  in  his  decoration.  In  other  words,  the 
ceremony  is  a  tribal  one  and  has  no  reference  to  the  totems, 
the  accepted  totemic  symbols  being  here  used  in  a  purely 
decorative  capacity.  V)'^'>-' 

Throughout  the  width  and  breadth  of  the  life  of  these 
Australian  tribes,  the  prominence  of  the  old  men  is  most 
conspicuous,  while  their  functions  and  privileges  are  nu- 
merous. They  alone  are  relatively  free  from  food  taboos. 
They  are  at  liberty  to  marry  the  most  desirable  young 
women  of  the  group,  and  use  and  abuse  this  privilege  at  the 
expense  of  the  younger  men.  They  set  the  periods  for  the 
ceremonial  performances  and  are  the  leading  figures  at  these 
important  occasions.  They  instruct  the  boys  before  and 
during  the  initiation  ceremonies.  They  decide  on  the  proper 
time  for  the  holding  of  markets  and  dispatch  messengers 
announcing  their  decision.  On  the  latter  occasions,  they 
fulfill  a  double  educative  function :  on  the  one  hand,  they  in- 
struct the  youths  In  the  customs  and  traditions  of  the  tribe, 
on  the  other,  they  take  advantage  of  the  presence  of 
individuals  from  other  tribes  In  order  to  borrow  from  them 
new  rituals,  songs,  or  objects  of  material  culture,  which 
they  presently  introduce  among  their  own  people. 

The  importance  of  magic  in  Australia  looms  prominent 


114  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

in  this  description.  Not  only  can  numerous  desires  be  ful- 
filled by  magic,  beginning  with  the  securing  of  food  and 
ending  with  the  infliction  of  sickness,  but  death  as  well  as 
birth  are  attributed  to  magic,  the  latter  in  the  case  of  the 
Central  Australians,  whose  belief  in  the  magical  impregna- 
tion of  women  by  means  of  the  ratapa  spirits  is  described 
in  the  preceding  pages.  Magic  pervades  the  entire  cycle  of 
totemic  relations,  that  of  the  totem  to  the  individual  and 
vice  versa,  that  of  the  individual  to  his  churinga,  and  that 
of  the  churinga,  the  totem  animal  and  the  individual  to  the 
mythological  ancestors  in  the  alcheringa.  All  of  these  rela- 
tions are  held  together  by  magical  threads.  Yet  even  here, 
in  Australia,  magical  idiosyncrasy  is  not  all-pervasive.  There 
is  no  miracle,  no  magic,  in  the  economic  activities  involved 
in  the  hunting,  fishing  and  gathering  of  wild  plants.  The 
industrial  processes,  however  crude,  comprised  in  the  mak- 
ing of  nets,  baskets,  weapons,  wind-shields  and  canoes,  are 
based  on  purely  matter-of-fact  observation,  on  knowledge 
and  skill.  The  social  regulations  connected  with  the  matri- 
monial organization  and  the  functions  of  chiefs,  of  the  old 
men  and  of  medicine-men,  belong  to  still  another  level. 
These  aspects  of  Australian  civilization  form  no  part  of  the 
magical  cycle  of  relations  and  activities  nor  do  they  belong 
to  the  realm  of  pure  knowledge  and  of  matter-of-fact  at- 
titudes— they  constitute  a  level  of  their  own,  where  social 
usage  is  determining  and  self-sufficient. 


CHAPTER  VI 
REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  I 

Five  examples  of  early  civilizations  have  been  passed  in 
review.  Are  there  any  general  conclusions  to  be  derived 
from  this  survey,  over  and  above  the  intimacy  of  under- 
standing that  comes  with  the  absorption  of  concrete  data? 

First,  then,  one  truth  may  well  be  emphasized,  trite  per- 
haps, yet  not  devoid  of  significance.  In  these  five  primitive 
communities  we  encounter  all  of  the  aspects  that  character- 
ize human  civilization,  including  our  own.  Religion,  art, 
social  and  political  organization,  industries,  economic  pur- 
suits and  ideas,  all  of  these  elements  are  represented.  Thus, 
from  the  very  start  it  must  be  recognized  that  common  hu- 
manity, not  only  in  matters  psychological  but  also  in  civil- 
ization, is  revealed  in  all  of  the  cases  here  analyzed. 

It  has  been  claimed  by  some  that  the  most  backward 
among  primitive  peoples  possessed  no  religion,  or  again, 
no  political  organization.  But  attitudes  such  as  these  can 
only  be  maintained  by  a  highly  artificial  definition  of  these ' 
aspects  of  civilization.  If  religion  is  belief  in  one  supreme 
deity  and  political  organization  the  centralized  state,  then 
indeed,  both  are  missing  from  most  primitive  tribes.  This 
procedure  is,  however,  patently  unjustifiable.  As  soon  as 
the  definitions  are  made  broad  enough  to  embrace,  as  they 
should,  a  great  variety  of  disparate  yet  similar  phenomena, 
the  homogeneity  of  all  civilizations  with  reference  to  their 
principal  constituent  elements  becomes  apparent. 

Another  important  conclusion  is  this :  is  it  not  clear  that 
the  civilization  of  the  Eskimo  or  those  of  the  Haida,  Iro- 
quois, Baganda,  or  Arunta,  are  no  more  to  be  regarded  as 
direct  reflections  of  the  psychology  of  the  peoples  that  carry 
these  civilizations  than  could  modern  civilization  with  refer- 
ence to  its  own  psychology?    All  of  these  civilizations  are 

"5 


ii6  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

old  historic  growths  in  which  the  vast  majority  of  cultural 
elements,  as  they  appear  in  the  life  of  each  generation, 
come  from  the  past  as  part  of  the  cumulative  traditional 
background. 

A  further  misconception  of  primitive  society  can  now  be 
disposed  of.  The  idea,  namely,  that  in  early  conditions  the 
borrowing  and  diffusion  of  cultural  traits  counts  for  little, 
that  each  local  group  depends  for  its  cultural  growth  upon 
its  own  psychic  and  historic  resources.  It  is  evident  enough 
that  in  each  one  of  our  test  tribes  new  elements  have  been 
added  to  civilization  by  the  creativeness  of  the  constituent 
individuals.  The  transformation  of  designs  on  the  North- 
west Coast,  which  can  be  followed  for  some  time  back,  re- 
veals a  constant  development  along  the  line  of  the  style 
peculiar  to  that  area  and  must  be  ascribed  to  the  creative 
imagination  of  its  artists.  The  relation  of  the  Iroquois 
Confederacy  to  the  surrounding  Indian  tribes  leaves  no 
room  for  doubt  that  the  cardinal  principles  of  the  highly 
elaborate  socio-political  system  of  the  League  must  be 
ascribed  to  tendencies  lodged  among  the  Iroquois  them- 
selves. The  magical  ceremonies  characteristic  of  Central 
Australia,  insofar  at  least  as  they  are  totemic,  clearly  rep- 
resent the  result  of  local  growth. 

But  it  is  equally  patent  that  suggestions  derived  from 
neighboring  tribes  have  contributed  to  the  civilizational 
growth  in  all  of  the  above  cases.  The  Iroquois  share  the 
patterns  of  their  embroidery  designs  with  many  neighboring 
Algonquin  tribes.  The  Haida  and  Tlingit  have  religious  so- 
cieties that  are  in  their  general  character  and  in  many  of 
their  details  so  much  like  the  societies  of  the  Kwakiutl  that 
common  historic  origin  cannot  be  doubted.  The  very  cul- 
tural similarity  of  the  many  Eskimo  tribes  of  the  Arctic  sug- 
gests a  constant  repercussion  of  cultural  elements  from  tribe 
to  tribe.  The  Baganda  share  with  their  immediate  neighbors 
and  with  many  remoter  Bantu  speakinjB^  tribes  such  elements 
as  the  manufacture  of  iron  objects,  cattle  breeding,  elaborate 
legal  procedure,  centralized  state  organization.    The  tribes 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  I  117 

of  Central  Australia  are  in  many  of  the  elements  of  their  ma- 
terial, social  and  ceremonial  culture  like  their  neighbors  of 
the  east  and  the  north  and  the  remoter  tribes  of  the  western 
coast.  In  some  of  these  instances  the  five  test  tribes  may 
have  been  the  originators  rather  than  the  borrowers,  but 
that  this  was  not  so  in  all  the  cases  is  obvious  without  further 
analysis.  Thus,  these  five  primitive  civilizations  bring  ir- 
refutable evidence  that  culture,  whether  modern  or  primi- 
tive, derives  stimulation  for  growth  and  development  both 
from  within  itself  and  from  other  cultures  with  which  it 
comes  in  contact. 

These  few  points  may  suffice  to  show  that  our  five  early 
civilizations  are  first  and  foremost  human  civilizations,  dis- 
playing the  static  and  dynamic  characteristics  which  are  en- 
countered in  every  organized  human  society. 

Another  set  of  traits  which  claim  our  attention  are  pe- 
culiar to  the  five  tribes  insofar  as  they  are  primitive.  With 
the  exception  of  the  African  Baganda,  the  local  units  com- 
prised in  the  test  tribes  are  small,  the  number  of  individuals 
involved  seldom  rising  above  several  hundred;  and  even 
among  the  Baganda,  where  the  populational  proportions 
are  different  and  towns  with  several  thousands  of  inhabitants 
are  not  unknown,  the  typical  villages  are  not  unlike  those  of 
the  other  tribes.  These  local  groups  are  relatively  isolated. 
Nowhere  do  we  find  the  constant,  regular  and  regulated  in- 
ter-communication that  is  so  characteristic  of  modern  so- 
ciety. And  the  result  of  this  is  that  the  local  cultures  are 
relatively  peculiar  unto  themselves,  much  more  individual 
and  specialized  than  is  the  case  later  in  history.  Again,  in 
all  of  the  tribes,  in  this  case  including  the  Baganda,  written 
language  is  unknown,  which  means  that  the  past  is  brought 
to  the  present  through  the  only  two  remaining  channels :  the 
physical  persistence  of  the  material  things  and  the  transfer 
of  ideas,  attitudes  and  modes  of  behavior  by  tradition,  from 
generation  to  generation. 

Further,  the  five  groups  represent  characteristic  folk  civil- 
izations, meaning  by  this  that  the  cultural  traits  of  each 


ii8  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

group,  in  the  form  of  knowledge,  attitudes  and  functions, 
are  much  more  evenly  distributed  among  the  individual  mem- 
bers of  the  group  than  is  ever  the  case  in  modern  society. 
Not  that  professional  specialization  or  esoteric  knowledge 
are  wholly  absent.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  shown  that  due 
attention  must  be  paid  to  these  elements.  There  is  the 
esoteric  knowledge  of  the  religious  society  member,  the  sex 
division  in  industry  and  art  and  other  forms  of  division  of 
labor.  But  all  in  all,  when  compared  with  modern  society, 
the  relative  civilizational  homogeneity,  the  evenness,  one 
might  say,  of  the  civilizational  layer  throughout  its  length 
and  breadth,  is  decidedly  characteristic  of  the  tribes  re- 
viewed. 

The  folk  character  of  these  civilizations  carries  with  it 
the  further  corollary  that  the  individual  is  nowhere  so  free 
from  social  pressure  and  public  opinion,  from  the  rule  and 
custom  of  the  group,  as  to  figure  as  a  conspicuous  unit  in 
civilizational  growth.  Of  course,  new  things,  ideas,  at- 
titudes, bits  of  knowledge,  do  arise,  and  whenever  that  is 
the  case,  the  new  comes  through  the  channel  of  individual 
minds;  but  in  its  originality,  in  its  departure  from  the  old, 
in  its  uniqueness,  these  increments  of  newness  do  not  mea- 
sure up  to  those  conspicuous  changes  which  are  ushered  into 
modern  civilization  through  the  channels  of  individual  cre- 
ativeness. 

One  further  element :  knowledge  remains  unsystematized. 
There  is  no  deliberate  synthesizing  of  experience,  no 
method  of  inquiry,  no  accurate  measurement.  There  is,  in 
other  words,  no  science.  Knowledge  therefore  remains 
crudely  experiential  in  its  derivation  and  purely  traditional 
in  its  mode  of  transfer  from  generation  to  generation.  That 
is  no  less  true  of  the  Baganda  than  it  is  of  the  other  test 
tribes. 

But  when  it  is  said  that  the  civilization  of  our  test  tribes 
is  universally  human  and  typically  primitive,  not  all  is  said. 
There  are  traits  in  each  which  are  not  only  human  and 
primitive,  but  also  characteristic  of  certain  wide  geographic 


REFLECTIONS  ON   PART  I  119 

areas.  Thus  the  tribes  of  America,  though  differing  from 
each  other  in  scores  of  cultural  peculiarities,  are  fundament- 
ally alike  in  others.  These  common  traits  are  characteris- 
tically American  or  North  American,  either  because  such 
traits  are  peculiar  to  North  America  alone  or  because  they 
are  at  least  common  to  all  or  most  tribes  of  this  continent. 
Thus,  in  no  one  of  the  three  test  tribes  is  there  any 
domestication  of  animals  with  the  sole  exception  of  the 
dog,  of  which  the  Eskimo,  it  may  be  noted,  make  more  dis- 
tinctive use  than  the  other  tribes.  Then  there  is  the  limita- 
tion in  the  power  of  the  chief,  a  characteristic  trait  of  North 
America.  In  this  connection  the  similarity  of  the  three 
groups  is  especially  conspicuous,  in  view  of  the  vast  differ- 
ence in  their  socio-political  organizations  and  the  equally 
marked  difference  in  the  functions  of  chiefs  in  the  three 
cases.  Among  the  Eskimo  there  are  scarcely  any  chiefs,  in 
the  narrower  sense  of  the  word.  Their  place  is  taken  by 
temporary  leaders  whose  leadership  is  based  on  special 
qualifications  for  particular  tasks.  Among  the  Tlingit  and 
Haida  a  variety  of  chiefs  occur — clan  chiefs,  family  chiefs, 
town  chiefs.  Their  prestige  is  high.  They  vie  with  each 
other  in  potlatching,  war  exploits,  and  the  possession  of 
powers  supernaturally  derived.  But  they  are  neither  ad- 
ministrators nor  legislators,  nor  do  they  sit  as  judges  in 
adjudicating  disputes  among  the  people.  The  daily  life  of 
a  chief,  moreover,  is  not  markedly  different  from  that  of  a 
commoner  or  even  that  of  a  slave.  Among  the  Iroquois, 
finally,  there  are  the  fifty  semi-hereditary  chieftainships. 
These  chiefs  are  federal  officials.  In  their  councils  they  de- 
cide upon  peace  and  war.  They  make  pacts  with  other  na- 
tions. As  individuals,  they  admonish  the  young  to  follow 
tradition  and  precedent;  here  and  there,  individually  or  in 
joint  council,  they  may  sit  as  judges  in  the  adjustment  of 
rival  claims  to  land  and  the  like.  The  chief,  nevertheless,  is 
but  a  model  Iroquois.  His  powers  are  strictly  limited.  His 
prestige,  although  great,  is  always  subject  to  the  limitation 
of  his  deserts.     He  may  not  command  obedience  to  his 


120  EARLY  CIVILIZATION 

whims,  and  should  he  deviate  from  the  path  deemed  proper 
by  those  who  make  chiefs,  the  Iroquois  women,  he  is  de- 
posed and  forgotten. 

How  different  then  the  position  of  the  chief  among  the 
Eskimo,  the  THngit  and  Haida,  and  the  Iroquois!  Yet, 
there  is  this  common  element,  that  the  power  of  the  leader 
or  chief  is  strictly  limited,  that  in  no  case  is  he  permitted  to 
exercise  actual  control  over  the  actions  of  his  people — 
barring  such  drastic  situations  as  war^  or  other  temporary 
exploits — and  that  in  his  daily  life  he  is  scarcely  distinguish- 
able from  any  of  his  subjects.  This  limitation  of  the  chief's 
power  is  characteristic  of  North  America. 

Then  there  is  the  cult  of  the  guardian  spirit.  Individ- 
ualized or  socialized  in  societies  among  the  Iroquois,  elabor- 
ated and  transformed  among  the  Tlingit  and  Haida  by 
means  of  a  graded  system  of  supernatural  powers,  among 
the  Eskimo  restricted  in  its  use  to  the  angakut  or  magicians, 
this  cult  is  common  to  the  three  groups  insofar  as  it  com- 
prises the  idea  of  a  guardian  spirit,  the  seeking  and  securing 
of  supernatural  powers  by  individuals,  and  the  personal  ex- 
periences that  are  associated  with  the  acquisition  of  such 
powers.  In  its  constituent  elements  this  cult  contains  noth- 
ing but  what  occurs  elsewhere  in  the  religions  of  primitive 
peoples;  but  taken  integrally,  it  is  characteristically  North 
American. 

In  the  industrial  field  lies  another,  somewhat  more  elu- 
sive element  of  the  same  nature.  While  the  Eskimo  are  ex- 
pert carvers  in  bone,  the  Haida  and  Tlingit  excel  in  their 
woodwork,  and  the  Iroquois,  at  least  in  the  more  ancient 
period,  were  highly  proficient  in  the  bark  industry,  a  com- 
mon element  is  implied  in  these  very  contrasts.  For  it  is 
typical  of  North  American  industry  that  in  each  of  the 
major  areas,  some  one,  or  at  best  a  very  small  number  of 
industries  are  highly  developed,  while  others  are  neglected 
or  absent.  While  the  Southwest,  with  its  basketry,  pottery, 
weaving,  architecture  and  mosaic  work,  stands  out  as  a  con- 


^Cf.  here  what  is  said  about  the  warrior  chiefs  of  the  Iroquois  on  p.  79, 
note. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  I  121 

spicuous  exception,  all  in  all,  the  exclusive  specialization  of 
industries  in  local  areas  must  be  regarded  as  an  American 
trait. 

Similarly,  the  Australian  test  tribe  displays  character- 
istics that  are  common  to  most  Australian  tribes.  The  lack 
of  agriculture  and  domestication,  barring  the  dingo,  the 
absence  of  the  bow  and  arrow,  the  occurrence  of  the  boom- 
erang, the  crudeness  of  the  industries,  the  complexity  of  the 
social  organization,  the  emergence  of  the  so-called  "classes," 
the  great  influence  wielded  by  the  old  men,  the  drastic  dis- 
crimination against  women  in  all  matters  religious  and  cere- 
monial, all  of  these  traits  are  shared  by  the  Central  Aus- 
tralians with  most  other  Australian  tribes,  and  some  of  the, 
traits,  such  as  the  "classes,"  are  unique  in  Australia. 

The  Baganda,  finally,  can  be  recognized  as  African  on  the 
basis  of  a  whole  series  of  cultural  peculiarities.  The  iron 
industry,  cattle  raising  on  a  large  scale,  markets,  roads,  or- 
ganized judicial  procedure,  including  the  institution  of  wit- 
nesses, the  centralized  state  with  a  king  at  the  head,  the  as- 
sociation with  the  king  of  two  queens,  his  mother  and  sister, 
these  are  some  of  the  features  shared  by  the  Baganda  with 
many  African  and  most  Bantu  speaking  tribes. 

Thus  the  civilizations  of  our  test  tribes  are  revealed  as 
common-human,  primitive  and  North  American,  African 
or  Australian.  There  are  still  other  traits  which  further  par- 
ticularize the  civilizations  of  these  tribes.  In  North  Amer- 
ica, the  Tlingit  and  Haida  are  differentiated  from  the 
Eskimo  and  the  Iroquois  by  a  whole  series  of  cultural  pecul- 
iarities. The  potlatch,  the  prominence  of  rank  in  all  matters 
social  and  ceremonial,  three  social  classes — nobles,  com- 
moners and  slaves — great  elaboration  of  woodwork,  and 
with  it.  a  distinctive  art  born  within  the  wood  industry,  all 
of  these  traits  are  known  to  ethnologists  as  characteristic 
Northwest  Coast  features. 

Similarly,  among  the  Iroquois,  there  is  the  high  develop- 
ment of  bark  work,  the  plant  patterns  in  embroidery,  the 
high  position  of  woman  in  economics,  society,  politics  and 


122  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

ceremonialism,  and  finally,  the  League  itself.  Some  of  these 
traits  are  characteristically  Iroquoian,  others,  like  the  plant 
patterns  in  embroidery,  are  shared  by  them  with  their  more 
immediate  neighbors,  the  Algonquin,  but  not  with  the  other 
American  tribes. 

Again,  in  the  Australian  test  tribe  a  number  of  features 
are  peculiarly  Central  Australian.  The  intichiuma  ceremo- 
nies for  the  multiplication  of  totemic  animals,  stone  churinga, 
the  utilization  of  churinga  in  connection  with  totemic  cere- 
monies, a  quadruple  series  of  initiation  rights,  as  well  as 
certain  peculiarities  in  the  rights  themselves,  are  traits  not 
merely  Australian,  but  Central  Australian. 

Nor  is  the  limit  of  local  specialization  reached  here.  The 
numerous  tribes  of  the  Eskimo  are  differentiated  from  one 
another  by  peculiarities  in  the  structure  of  the  bow,  by  the 
kinds  of  stone  lamps  used,  by  certain  details  in  the  making 
of  harpoons,  by  the  types  of  harness  for  dogs,  by  the  shape 
of  kayaks,  by  the  versions  of  widespread  myths.  Similarly, 
in  the  Northwest  area,  the  Tlingit  and  Haida  differ  from 
the  Kwakiutl  in  a  number  of  features.  The  decorative  art 
of  the  Kwakiutl,  while  similar  in  type  to  that  of  the  northern 
tribes,  is  much  cruder.  The  dual  divisions  of  the  Tlingit 
and  Haida  are  not  found  among  the  Kwakiutl.  Also,  the 
maternal  organization  of  society  is  much  more  pronounced 
in  the  north  than  it  is  in  the  south.  The  relation  between 
religious  societies  and  the  potlatch  is  different  in  the  two 
groups:  whereas  among  the  Kwakiutl  the  potlatch  appears 
on  the  whole  as  an  adjunct  of  the  performances  of  the  re- 
ligious societies,  the  societies  themselves  constitute  among 
the  Haida  little  more  than  a  functional  aspect  of  potlatch- 
ing.  The  "trickster"  of  the  northern  mythologies  is  the 
raven,  whereas  among  the  Kwakiutl  the  mink  takes  its  place. 

And  what  is  true  of  the  Eskimo  and  the  Northwest  tribes 
applies  to  the  Iroquois,  the  Baganda,  and  the  Arunta. 

The  detailed  information  available  on  the  tribes  of  the 
Northwest  permits  us  to  go  even  further,  for  the  Tlingit 
and  Haida,  while  strikingly  similar  in  all  of  their  major 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  I  123 

cultural  peculiarities,  are  far  from  identical.  The  artistic 
aspect  of  the  woodwork  has  been  carried  a  shade  further  by 
the  Haida.  The  tendency  to  multiply  crests  in  clans  is 
marked  among  the  Haida,  weak  among  the  Tlingit.  The 
reciprocal  functions  of  the  phratries  are  more  definitely 
fixed  among  the  Tlingit.  Individual  names  among  the  Tlin- 
git are  derived  from  animals  and  birds ;  among  the  Haida, 
the  majority  of  the  names  of  individuals  suggest  potlatch 
associations,  referring  in  various  ways  to  property.  And 
so  on. 

In  the  final  analysis,  what  we  have  found  is  this:  every 
local  civilization  is  in  certain  respects  like  all  civilizations, 
in  certain  others,  like  all  primitive  civilizations;  then 
it  is  like  the  civilizations  of  certain  very  large  geography 
teal  areas,  continental  in  their  sweep;  it  is  further  like  the 
civilization  of  a  more  restricted  area;  and  finally,  it  is  like 
unto  itself,  in  certain  local  peculiarities,  individual  and 
unique. 

Can  anything  be  said  in  explanation  of  this  curious  situ- 
ation? 

It  seems  obvious  that  the  common  human  aspects  of  civil- 
ization must  rest  on  certain  fundamental  characteristics  of 
man  as  a  psychic  individual,  of  his  relations  to  his  fellow 
men  and  of  his  relations  to  nature.  It  is  not  possible  here 
to  indulge  in  an  analysis  of  these  factors.  It  is  sufficient  to 
note  that  the  universal  characteristics  of  all  civilization  are 
not  themselves  derivable  from  any  civilizational  or  historic 
factors,  but  rest  on  certain  peculiarities  of  man  and  of  his 
relations  to  other  men  and  to  nature.  The  peculiarities  of 
civilization  which  make  it  primitive  cannot  be  derived  from 
any  psychological  traits  of  early  man  as  an  individual. 
Here  certain  historic  conditions  enter  as  a  general  back- 
ground, among  which  may  be  mentioned  the  absence  of 
professionally  conducted  Inquiry  and  of  the  concomitant 
application  of  the  knowledge  thus  gained  to  thought  and 
practice,  and  the  absence  of  the  art  of  writing.  Under 
these  historic  limitations,  certain  relations  of  man  to  na- 


124  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

ture  and  of  man  to  man  develop  which  are  characteristically 
primitive  and  have  psychological  and  sociological  bearings/ 

Historical  factors  enter  even  more  prominently  as  a 
determinant  of  those  cultural  traits  that  are  continental 
in  their  range  without  being  universal.  Here  an  explanation 
through  human  nature  or  human  or  environmental  rela- 
tions cannot  suffice,  for  the  absence  of  these  traits  in 
other  areas  would  then  remain  unaccounted  for.  Hence, 
one  must  take  recourse  to  special  historic  events.  More- 
over, it  would  obviously  be  unreasonable  tn  assnmp  that 
cultural  traits  that  do  not  occur  m  wide  ar^ag  shnnlfj  have 
originated  many  times  in  one  area.  The  alternative  and 
orily  pussibl^  assumption  is  that  such  traits  have  orig- 
inated a  very  few  times,  or  perhaps  only  once,  in  one  par- 
ticular locality,  and  have  then  spread  from  tribe  to  tribe  in 
the  course  of  historic  contact. 

The  civilizational  features  which  were  found  to  be  char- 
acteristic of  Australia,  Africa,  North  America,  belong  to 
this  latter  category. 

The  above  argument  applies  also  to  the  traits  distributed 
over  narrower  geographical  districts. 

From  this  somewhat  complex  analysis  two  fundamental 
processes  disengage  themselves  which  alone  can  account  for 
the  distribution  of  civilizational  features  noted  at  the  be- 
ginning of  this  chapter.  The  processes  are :  the  origination 
of  cultural  features  in  particular  tribes  and  localities — such 
features  being  ultimately  due  to  individual  creativeness — 
and  the  spread  of  such  features  in  the  course  of  the  historic 
contact  of  tribes.  These  two  processes  are  equally  funda- 
mental and  omnipresent.^ 


^This  theme  is  further  elaborated  in  the  last  chapter,  dealing  with  "Early 
Life  and  Thought." 

*The  actual  situation  has  been  unduly  simplified  in  this  presentation.  For 
the  only  cases  of  distribution  of  cultural  features  so  far  considered  are  the 
cases  of  continuous  distribution,  where  a  form  of  belief,  an  object  of  ma- 
terial culture,  a  type  of  social  structure,  are  distributed  over  a  more  or  less 
extended  area  of  contiguous  tribes.  But  such  cases  must  be  supplemented 
by  others — and  their  number  is  legion — where  distribution  is  discontinuous, 
where,  moreover,  the  similarities  between  the  cultural  features  involved  are 
not  categorical  but  dubious,  allowing  of  more  than  one  appraisal.    It  is  the 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  1  125 

The  data  relative  to  the  five  test  tribes  may  be  utilized 
from  yet  another  standpoint,  namely,  with  reference  to  the 
theory  of  evolution.  This  aspect  of  the  problem  may  be 
discussed  under  three  headings:  the  relation  between  the 
five  civilizations  taken  as  integral  units;  the  relation  be- 
tween the  different  aspects  of  civilization  in  the  five  tribes, 
such  as  political  organization,  art,  and  so  on;  and  the 
relation  between  the  different  aspects  of  civilization  in  each 
one  of  the  tribes. 

When  the  attempt  is  made  to  arrange  the  five  civiliza- 
tions in  the  form  of  an  evolutionary  series,  numerous  dif- 
ficulties are  at  once  encountered.  The  Tlingit  and  Haida 
are  readily  recognized  as  highest  in  decorative  art,  but  it  is 
equally  plain  that  the  Baganda  must  be  regarded  as  most 
advanced  in  political  organization,  although  the  Iroquois, 
in  their  own  way,  have  reached  a  markedly  different  but 
perhaps  equally  advanced  form  of  political  Integration.  In 
the  line  of  material  culture  and  economics  the  Northwest 
tribes,  the  Eskimo  and  the  Australians  must  be  grouped  to- 
gether as  having  no  pottery  or  agriculture,  while  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  absence  of  domestication,  barring  the  dog, 
these  three  groups  are  at  one  with  the  Iroquois.  In  the  case 
of  Central  Australia,  one  might  be  tempted  to  pronounce 
it  as  lowest  In  the  scale  from  all  standpoints,  until  one  re- 
collects the  great  elaboration  of  social  organization  found 
in  this  region.  The  Baganda,  with  their  dense  population 
and  their  highly  developed  and  multiple  industries,  may 
claim  priority  in  this  respect,  but  in  the  technical  and  artis- 
tic finish  of  their  industrial  products  they  have  scarcely  any- 
thing to  offer  to  compare  with  some  of  the  better  bone  work 
of  the  Eskimo  or  the  wood  carvings  of  the  Tlingit  and 
Haida.  And  so  it  goes !  There  seems  to  be  no  way  in 
which  the  civilizations  of  the  five  tribes  could  be  arranged  in 


latter  type  of  instances  that  have  provided  wellnigh  inexhaustible  stores  of 
data  for  the  acrimonious  discussions  of  diffusion  versus  independent  develop- 
ment in  the  history  of  civilization.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  return  to  this 
aspect  of  the  subject  in  the  "Reflections  on  Part  II." 


126  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

an  ascending  series.  No  sooner  this  is  attempted,  than  the 
civilizations  tend  to  break  up  into  their  constituent  elements, 
each  of  which  has  undergone  a  distinctive  development  in 
each  instance,  both  in  degree  and  in  kind. 

Following  this  lead,  one  might  next  attempt  to  compare 
the  separate  aspects  of  the  civilizations  in  the  five  test  cases. 
In  the  domain  of  art,  for  instance,  it  is  easily  recognized  that 
Australia  stands  lowest.  But  no  light  comes  from  the  com- 
parison of  the  artistic  attainments  of  the  other  tribes.  The 
art  of  the  Northwest  tribes  cannot  be  considered  as  in  any 
way  derivative  from  that  of  the  Eskimo  nor  vice  versa;  nor 
can  one  be  regarded  as  superior  to  or  further  evolved  than 
the  other;  and  the  plant  pattern  embroidery  of  the  Iroquois 
cannot  be  placed  in  any  developmental  relation  to  the  art 
of  any  of  the  other  tribes. 

Similarly,  in  political  organization,  the  Baganda  may  per- 
haps be  recognized  as  the  highest;  but  the  political  struc- 
ture of  the  Iroquois  can  certainly  not  be  regarded  as  an 
antecedent  of  the  Baganda  form,  the  confederate  type  of 
political  structure  being  quite  foreign  to  Africa.  Again, 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  economic  and  industrial  adjust- 
ment to  environmental  conditions,  the  Eskimo,  while  lack- 
ing many  of  the  advanced  features  of  African  industry, 
have  achieved  so  high  a  degree  of  balance  with  the  needs  of 
the  situation  that  probably  no  other  of  the  test  tribes  could 
stand  comparison  with  them  in  this  respect.  As  an  apothe- 
osis of  survival  Eskimo  civilization  has  no  peers. 

The  case  does  not  appear  any  more  favorable  to  our  evo- 
lutionary attempts  when  the  separate  aspects  of  civilization 
in  each  tribe  are  compared.  Among  the  Eskimo,  as  just  in- 
dicated, the  economic  and  industrial  aspects  of  civilization 
are  highly  developed  and  so  perfectly  adjusted  to  require- 
ments, that  a  sort  of  limit  of  possible  achievement  may  be 
said  to  have  been  attained.  Their  social  life,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  exceedingly  simple  and  amorphic.  In  art  they  do 
not  cover  a  very  wide  range  but  stand  high  in  their  diminu- 
tive bone  carvings  and  the  equally  slight  but  excellent  etch- 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  I  127 

ings  on  bone.  In  mythology  again,  they  have  evidently  not 
gone  as  far  as  many  other  primitive  tribes.  Among  the 
Northwest  tribes  the  development  of  the  wood  industry  with 
its  associated  art  certainly  outstrips  all  other  phases  of  their 
civilization.  And  the  same  applies  to  the  socio-political  or- 
ganization and  ideology  among  the  Iroquois.  In  Australia, 
finally,  the  economico-industrial  phase  is  simple  and  crude, 
while  the  socio-ceremonial  side  is  highly  elaborated. 

In  view  of  such  abortive  attempts  at  squeezing  our  five 
civilizations  into  an  evolutionary  series  from  either  of  the 
three  standpoints  exemplified  above,  some  conclusions  force 
themselves  upon  the  mind.  While  certain  similarities  in  the' 
historic  development  of  the  five  test  civilizations  may  be 
assumed  to  have  occurred — and  of  this  more  anon — the 
historic  fates  of  the  five  groups  have  evidently  been  individ- 
ual and  particular  and  have  driven  them  in  directions  that 
may  here  and  there  have  reached  corresponding  levels,  with- 
out however  lying  along  the  same  line  of  advance. 

From  the  comparison  of  the  separate  aspects  of  the  test' 
civilizations  it  appears  that  these  also  have  followed  lines 
of  development  that  were  essentially  disparate.  While  sim- 
ilarities in  historic  process  in  the  several  instances  may  here 
be  assumed  somewhat  more  readily,  it  is  quite  clear  that 
distinct  features  have  constantly  arisen  in  the  five  de- 
velopmental series,  features  which  must  be  recognized  as 
individualized  and  perhaps  unique  as  well  as  fitting  into  dis- 
tinct series  of  changes. 

Again,  there  is  no  parallelism  except  of  a  most  general 
sort  between  the  different  aspects  of  each  civilization.  They 
do  not,  as  it  were,  keep  pace  with  each  other.  Of  course,  it 
is  clear  enough  that  the  density  of  population  in  Africa  is 
correlated  with  certain  phases  of  economic  development, 
such  as  markets  and  roads,  and  that  the  latter  are  correlated 
with  the  development  of  the  state  (compare  the  functions  of 
road  building  in  the  life  history  of  Rome) .  Also,  among  the 
Northwest  tribes,  the  art  could  not  have  reached  its  high 
state  of  elaboration  and  finish  without  an  adequate  com- 


128  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

mand  of  the  technique  of  wood  work.  But  beyond  such 
very  general,  fairly  obvious  and  not  very  impressive  cor- 
relations, the  separate  elements  of  civilization  seem  in  each 
case  to  be  driven  forward  by  distinct  determinants  and  to 
display  most  discrepant  features  of  elaboration  and 
advance. 


PART  II 

INDUSTRY  AND  ART,  RELIGION  AND  SOCIETY 
OF  EARLY  MAN 


INTRODUCTION 

In  Part  I,  primitive  civilizations  were  treated  in  their 
historic  wholeness,  such  as  they  appear  in  their  territorial 
homes.  In  Part  II,  which  follows,  early  civilization 
will  be  separated  into  its  constituent  aspects — economic  con- 
ditions and  industry,  art,  religion  and  society.  We  know 
how  closely  correlated  are  these  constituents  of  civiliza- 
tion. It  will,  therefore,  be  understood  that  the  singling 
out  of  the  separate  aspects  is  a  highly  artificial  process; 
but  it  is  essential  for  purposes  of  analysis.  In  the  course 
of  our  treatment  of  each  of  the  various  aspects  of  civiliza- 
tion, however,  it  will  often  prove  useful  to  throw  side 
glances  at  the  relations  that  obtain  between  a  particular 
aspect  and  some  of  the  others. 

This  comparative  survey  of  early  industry  and  art,  re- 
ligion and  society,  will  also  enable  us  to  visualize  more 
clearly  those  peculiarities  of  civilization  which  are  charac- 
teristic of  early  conditions  as  well  as  the  other  phases  in 
which  the  modern  and  the  primitive  represent  but  variants 
of  the  common-human. 


CHAPTER  VII 

ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY 

'  The  Economic  Adjustment 

Man  came  into  the  world  naked.  He  had  no  tools  nor 
weapons.  For  shelter  he  had  to  use  caves,  or,  if  these  were 
not  available,  trees;  and  when  pressed  by  danger,  he  would 
climb  these,  for  this  without  doubt  he  could  do.  His  only 
means  of  transport  on  land  were  his  two  legs,  and  to  cross 
streams  he  had  to  wade  or  swim,  where  that  was  possible. 
He  knew  no  arts  and  his  food  he  had  to  take  where  he  found 
it.  His  diet  was  largely  vegetarian,  although  supplemented 
here  and  there  by  whatever  meat  could  be  secured  from  dead 
animals  upon  which  he  might  stumble,  if  lucky.  Nature 
was  not  always  kind  to  him,  and  he  was  the  inferior  of  many 
wild  creatures  in  size,  in  strength,  in  speed,  in  the  sharpness 
of  his  senses  and  in  the  natural  weapons  of  offence  and 
defence. 

But  withal,  he  proved  more  than  amply  equipped  to  cope 
with  the  situation.  ,  His  strength  was  considerable.  In 
his  hands  he  possesse'd  an  organ  of  great  usefulness  from  the 
beginning,  and  of  unlimited  future  potentialities.  He  had 
the  power  of  speech,  which  proved  of  immense  practical 
use  and  a  source  of  great  emotional  satisfaction  even  before 
it  developed  into  an  incomparable  organ  for  the  expression 
and  the  moulding  of  thought.  And,  most  important  of  all, 
his  skull  harbored  a  brain  the  like  of  which  in  complexity 
could  not  be  found  among  the  many  creatures  on  land  or 
in  the  sea.  Also,  in  proportion  to  his  size,  his  brain  was 
much  larger  and  heavier  than  that  of  any  other  animal, 
leaving  far  behind  even  the  relatively  large  brain  of  the 
anthropoid  apes.  This  amazing  organ  enabled  him  to 
gather  up  individual  experiences  with  great  rapidity  and 
store  them  away  for  future  reference.    Moreover,  his  brain 

132 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    133 

soon  revealed  a  capacity  to  generalize  or  abstract  from  in- 
dividual experiences,  and  thus  to  make  wonderful  shortcuts 
through  the  infinite  variety  of  necessary  adjustments.  To 
cap  it  all,  man  brought  with  him  into  the  world  a  reason- 
able amount  of  inquisitiveness  and  originality. 

Thus  equipped  by  Nature,  man  provided  two  solutions  to 
the  problem  of  life.  One  solution  was  industry,  the  other, 
supernaturalism.  Still  far  from  controlling  Nature,  animate 
or  inanimate,  man  achieved  by  means  of  industry  specific 
adjustments  to  local  environmental  conditions.  When  these 
adjustments  reached  a  certain  degree  of  complexity  and 
smoothness,  they  became  stabilized,  resulting  in  an  equili- 
brium between  natural  conditions  and  the  things  and  pro- 
cesses of  industry.  This  equilibrium,  while  never  wholly 
immobile,  was  on  the  whole  remarkably  stable,  persisting, 
with  slight  variations,  for  long  periods  of  time.  The  in- 
dustrial adjustments  to  nature  were,  speaking  generally, 
satisfactory,  and  brought  a  reasonable  amount  of  security, 
comfort  and  happiness. 

But  industry  left  many  desires  unfulfilled,  many  questions 
unanswered,  and  Nature,  after  all,  uncontrolled.  Here 
supernaturalism  stepped  in.  It  placed  man  into  an  emo- 
tional rapport  with  Nature,  it  provided  him  with  a  system  of 
interpreting  phenomena,  in  other  words,  it  gave  him  a  world 
view,  and  it  realized  all  his  desires,  for  in  the  realm  of  super- 
naturalism the  wish  and  the  idea  became  objective  realities. 

Leaving  supernaturalism  for  later  consideration,  we  may 
now  return  to  the  industrial  realm  of  objectivity  and  mat- 
ter-of-factness. 

After  a  more  or  less  extended  period  of  painful  malad- 
justment, according  to  local  conditions,  man  solved  one  by 
one  all  the  basic  problems  of  economic  existence.  He  in- 
vented weapons  and  tools,  traps,  snares  and  nets.  Thus 
hunting,  fishing  and  the  art  of  war  were  added  to  his  equip- 
ment. Having  discovered  ways  of  making  fire,  he  was  able 
to  warm  himself  in  case  of  need,  to  keep  away  wild  animals 
and  to  cook  his  food  on  hot  coals  placed  in  a  hole  in  the 


134  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

ground  or  by  means  of  stones  heated  on  the  fire  and  then 
thrown  into  a  vessel  with  water.  Such  vessels  and  other  re- 
ceptacles multiplied  rapidly,  some  were  of  stone,  some  pots 
of  clay,  others  were  woven  baskets  or  even  boxes  of  wood. 
Man  now  lived  in  tents,  wigwams,  earth  lodges,  wooden  or 
bark  houses  or  houses  made  of  snow.  Transportation 
on  water  was  effected  by  means  of  rafts,  bull  boats,  canoes 
and  boats.  On  land,  man  invented  the  sledge  and  the  tra- 
vois  long  before  he  came  to  employ  the  services  of  animals, 
excepting  only  the  dog.  He  alone  very  early  became  man's 
companion  and  was  used  as  watchdog,  as  draught  animal 
and  as  hunting  companion.  The  furs  and  skins  of  animals 
came  to  be  used  for  garments,  the  covering  of  tents  and 
for  other  purposes. 

But  we  must  cut  short  the  enumeration,  for  this  com- 
posite picture  of  early  economics,  if  carried  out  in  detail, 
would  fill  the  pages  of  this  book. 

In  connection  with  the  industrial  life  of  early  man  a  num- 
ber of  features  are  of  special  interest:  the  peculiarities  of 
geographical  distribution,  the  division  of  labor  and  the 
development  of  property.  A  few  paragraphs  are  due  to 
each  of  these. 

A  glance  at  the  geographical  distribution  of  industries 
and  of  the  objects  of  material  culture  serves  to  reinforce  the 
conclusions  reached  in  the  "Reflections  to  Part  I."  The 
making  of  the  basic  economic  adjustments  has  everywhere 
led  to  the  development  of  tools,  weapons,  garments,  shelters, 
means  of  transportation,  vessels.  But  as  soon  as  one  tries 
to  particularize,  the  distribution  of  an  object  or  device  thus 
defined,  narrows  down.  Some  economic  pursuits,  objects 
inventions,  are  then  found  distributed  over  vast  continuous 
areas,  others  in  less  vast  and  discontinuous  ones,  while  some 
things  or  processes  prove  indigenous  to  small  districts. 

To  illustrate :  the  bow  and  arrow  is  found  almost  every- 
where in  the  primitive  world,  excepting  only  Australia,  but 
particular  kinds  of  bows,  shapes  of  arrow  points,  methods 
of  attaching  feathers  to  the  arrow  (if  there  are  any),  or 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    135 

ways  of  releasing  it,  differ  from  district  to  district.  Tents 
are  found  in  many  places,  but  the  tipi,  with  its  peculiar 
shape  and  construction,  is  at  home  in  the  Plains  and  some 
adjoining  areas.  Similarly,  the  bark  house  (as  among  the 
Iroquois),  the  earth  lodge  (as  among  the  Omaha),  the 
adobe  pueblo  of  the  Southwest,  the  gabled  board  house 
(as  among  the  Northwest  tribes),  the  snow  house  (of  the 
Eskimo),  the  semi-subterranean  house  (as  among  the  in- 
terior Sallsh  of  British  Columbia),  have  each  their  areas  of 
distribution,  with  considerable  overlapping.  Later  we  shall 
examine  a  map  of  African  huts^  revealing  a  similar  situation. 
Some  types  of  dwellings  are  rare  and  peculiar  to  restricted 
localities,  as  for  example,  the  pile  dwellings  of  northern 
Melanesia  and  New  Guinea  or  the  tree  houses — houses 
built  on  the  branches  of  trees — of  some  Philippine  tribes  or 
the  African  natives  about  Lake  Tchad. 

It  Is  similar  with  water  transportation.  In  North  Amer- 
ica we  find  the  balsa  of  California,  the  bark  canoe  of  the 
East  and  that  of  the  West — two  distinct  types — the  bull 
boat  of  the  village  Indians,  the  gigantic  dugouts  of  the 
Northwest,  the  kayak  and  woman's  boat  of  the  Eskimo. 
And  In  the  South  Sea  area  there  is  the  crude  bark  canoe  of 
Australia,  the  dugout  with  one  or  two  outriggers  of  Mel- 
anesia— distributed  throughout  Indonesia  but  not  elsewhere 
— the  dugout  with  built-up  sides  of  boards  of  the  Solomon 
Islands,  and  the  gigantic  and  technically  admirable  war 
dugouts  of  the  Polynesians. 

If  space  permitted,  equally  impressive  distributions  could 
be  shown  for  a  multiplicity  of  other  objects  and  processes 
of  industry.^ 

As  one  surveys  these  geographical  aspects  of  Industry,  the 
impression  becomes  irresistible  that  individual  objects  of 
material  culture  and  even  industrial  processes  travel  from 
tribe  to  tribe  as  fairly  independent  units,  concerning  them- 
selves very  little  with  the  behavior  of  the  other  aspects  of 

'See  p.  304. 

'For  notes  on  the  distributions  of  pottery  and  agriculture  and  the  forms 
of  dress  in  North  America  and  Africa,  see  pp.  302-305. 


136  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

culture  or  even  of  other  material  objects.  How  else  could 
the  individualized  distributions  be  explained? 

At  the  same  time,  there  is  a  noticeable  tendency  for  things 
and  ways  of  making  or  using  things  to  become  grouped  in 
sets  within  certain  limited  areas.  Thus,  in  North  America, 
for  example,  the  so-called  culture  areas  are  most  clearly 
characterized  by  their  material  traits,  whether  objective  or 
functional.^ 

If  we  apply  the  idea  of  economic  adjustment  to  this  sit- 
uation, it  can  be  readily  explained.  When  a  tribe  strikes 
a  new  physical  environment,  it  works  out  an  adjustment  to 
the  latter  by  means  of  a  set  of  economic  pursuits  and  of  ob- 
jects and  processes  of  material  culture.  But  this  adjustment 
is  always  one  of  a  number  of  possible  ones ;  it  is  thus  not  by 
any  means  determined  by  the  physical  conditions.  When 
an  adjustment  to  the  environment  is  made,  an  equilibrium 
established,  it  is  not  easily  dislodged.  The  material  culture 
of  a  tribe  then  develops  a  decided  aversion  to  changes 
or  even  improvements,  whether  these  originate  within  the 
group  or  are  brought  in  from  the  outside.  Also,  an  adjust- 
ment of  this  sort  tends  to  spread  to  a  wider  area  than  that  of 
its  original  home,  following  the  lines  of  relatively  similar 
environmental  conditions.  Beyond  this  its  spread  does  not 
extend,  except  in  the  form  of  individual  features  which,  as 
shown  above,  travel  about  with  considerable  freedom." 

An  important  cultural  phenomenon  which  is  equally  prom- 
inent in  all  civilization,  primitive  or  modern,  and  stands  out 
with  especial  clearness  in  the  domain  of  material  culture, 
is  the  division  of  labor.  It  need  not  be  discussed  at  this 
point,  as  illustrations  have  already  been  provided  in  the 
descriptive  sketches  of  Part  I,  and  the  subject  will  be 
taken  up  again  in  later  sections  of  this  book.' 


'C/.  Wissler's  suggestive  descriptions  of  the  material  cultures  of  the 
areas  in  his  "Material  Cultures  of  the  North  American  Indians,"  American 
Anthropologist,  Vol.  XVI,  1914,  pp.  449-465.     See  also  p.  312,  note. 

"Note  the  interesting  formulation  along  similar  lines  by  Wissler  in  his 
"Aboriginal  Maize  Culture  as  a  Typical  Culture-Complex,"  American  Jour- 
nal of  Sociology,  Vol.  XXI,  1916,  pp.  656-662. 

'See  the  remarks  on  "The  Disabilities  of  Women,"  pp.  259-264,  and  the 
discussion  of  Laufer's  "The  Potter's  Wheel,"  pp.  317-319. 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    137 

Material  culture,  again,  is  the  birthplace  of  most  ideas 
connected  with  property.  It  is  regrettable  that  only  a  few 
paragraphs  can  be  devoted  here  to  this  basic  feature  of 
civilization.^ 

Contrary  to  a  common  assumption,  both  individual  and 
communal  property  exist  wherever  man  is  found.  Objects 
of  wearing  apparel,  unless  ceremonial  in  nature,  tools  and 
weapons,  are  everywhere  owned  by  individuals.  Frequently, 
although  not  invariably,  they  are  also  made  by  the  owner. 
This  obviously  does  not  apply  to  clothes  which,  whether  in- 
tended for  men  or  women,  are  almost  always  made  by  the 
latter.  Communal  property  usually  extends  to  things  of 
common  use,  as  the  agricultural  fields  in  North  America, 
the  hunting  and  fishing  territories  of  many  peoples  and 
places,  and  the  like. 

A  point  of  greatest  importance  for  the  understanding  of 
early  civilization  is  this:  in  primitive  life  ideas  of  property 
are  not  restricted  to  material  things  but  extend  with  the 
greatest  facility  to  functional  and  spiritual  matters.  Myths, 
dances,  prayers,  songs,  medicinal  practices,  guardian  spirits, 
ceremonies,  designs,  cries,  are  "owned"  in  no  less  real  a 
way  than  are  material  things.  And  here  again  both  indi- 
vidual and  communal  ownership  is  encountered. 

When  a  man  (or  woman)  owns  valuable  material  things 
or  other  prerogatives,  he  likes  to  feel  that  some,  if  not  all 
of  these  precious  possessions  will  remain  in  the  hands  of 
those  close  by,  relatives  or  intimates.  The  close  associates 
or  blood  relatives  of  individuals  who  own  things,  are  equally 
eager  to  know  that  some  day  they  will  enjoy  at  least  in  part 
the  advantages  of  these  fortunate  ones,  which  are  for  the 
time  being  out  of  their  reach.  Out  of  this  psychological  sit- 
uation there  arose  a  tendency  for  the  inheritance  of  property 
and  prerogatives,  which  in  crude  forms  is  found  everywhere 
and  assumes  fixed  as  well  as  complicated  aspects  in  many 
early  communities,   as  for  example,  among  the  tribes  of 


*An  excellent  recent  sketch  of  early  ideas  about  property  will  be  found 
in  Lowie's  "Primitive  Society,"  Chapter  IX,  "Property." 


138  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

the  Northwest  Coast  of  America,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Malay  Archipelago  and  throughout  the  extent  of  the  South 
Sea  cultures.  And,  once  more,  property  and  prerogatives 
are  inherited  by  individuals  and  by  groups,  such  as  families, 
clans  and  religious  societies/ 


Applied  Knowledge 
Kwakiutl  Industry 

We  have  seen  that  woodwork  is  the  great  industry  of 
the  Northwest  Coast.  It  is  therefore  not  surprising  to  find 
that  the  Kwakiutl  display  much  accurate  knowledge  and 
craftsmanship  in  the  selection  of  materials,  the  making  of 
tools,  and  the  utilization  of  these  for  the  manufacture  of 
objects.  One  tool  that  is  constantly  used  is  the  wedge.  The 
making  of  wedges  is  described  by  Boas  as  follows : 

"Wedges  are  made  of  yew-wood.  One  man  bends  a  small 
yew-tree  to  the  ground,  and  another  one  cuts  it  through  at 
the  bend  with  a  gritstone  which  is  kept  wet.  The  tree  gen- 
erally snaps  before  it  is  cut  half  through.  Then  the 
branches  are  removed,  and  the  tree  is  cut  with  gritstones  into 
pieces  of  the  desired  length.  The  points  of  these  pieces 
are  next  burned  off  to  harden  them,  and  are  rubbed  down 
with  water  on  a  large  slab  of  sandstone.  The  burning  of 
the  wood  prevents  it  from  warping.  When  the  point  is 
ground  down,  the  lower  side  of  the  wedge  is  given  a  steeper 
slant  than  the  upper  one;  so  that  when  driven  into  a  hori- 
zontal log,  the  wedge  stands  slanting  upward.  In  other 
cases  the  wedge  is  ground  down  on  one  side  only,  and  the 
sides  are  flattened  down  by  chopping  with  an  adze  or  by 
grinding.  The  tip  of  the  wedge  also  generally  tapers  down 
from  the  sides.  The  butt-end  is  tapered  down  slightly,  and 
is  then  provided  with  a  ring  made  of  cedar-withes.  After 
the  ring  has  been  fastened  on  to  the  wedge,  the  butt-end  is 

*As  an  illustration  of  how  early  property,  however  extensive,  does  not 
always  mean  what  it  means  to  us,  see  the  discussion  of  the  potlatch,  pp.  59-61. 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    139 

sometimes  rubbed  against  a  wetted  gritstone  until  it  is  quite 
flat.  Generally,  however,  it  is  battered  down  on  a  stone 
slab.  Wedges  for  splitting  boards  are  always  made  in 
sets  of  seven  pieces,  the  longest  of  which  is  four  spans 
long,  while  the  others  decrease  in  length  to  about  two  spans 
and  a  half  or  less.  Other  wedges  are  made  for  hollowing 
out  canoes.  These  are  made  of  crooked  pieces  of  yew- 
wood,  which  are  bent  so  as  to  conform  to  the  inner  curva- 
ture of  the  canoe.  They  are  ground  down  to  a  point  on  the 
concave  side."^ 

The  red  cedar  wood  is  used  most  frequently  for  making 
planks  for  houses,  canoes  and  boxes.  A  moss  covered  trunk 
is  usually  selected  because  this  generally  contains  the  best 
wood.  Before  using  the  tree,  the  workman  makes  a  small 
hole  in  it  with  a  long-handled  chisel.  This  process,  called 
"feeling  into  the  tree,"  is  used  to  test  its  soundness.  The 
wood  of  fallen  trees  is  said  to  be  softer  and  more  easily 
split;  it  is  therefore  used  for  making  boards  and  boxes. 
Roof  beams  are  made  of  course-grained  cedars  because 
these  do  not  catch  fire  easily.  Fine-grained  cedar,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  used  for  canoes  because  it  does  not  split 
easily.  In  olden  times  planks  were  cut  from  standing  trees: 
"In  the  butt-end  of  the  tree,  on  the  side  that  has  no  branches, 
a  hole  was  cut,  in  which  a  fire  was  started,  and  carefully 
guarded,  that  it  should  not  spread  upward.  The  charcoal 
was  scraped  out  of  the  hole  with  a  stick  of  hemlock-wood, 
and  the  wood  above  the  hole  was  kept  wet  by  means  of  a 
long  stick  wrapped  with  hemlock-branches.  After  this  hole 
had  been  made  at  the  butt-end  the  workman  would  climb  the 
tree  to  a  height  of  about  three  or  four  fathoms.  There 
he  would  work,  standing  on  the  branches  of  a  small  tree 
that  had  been  pulled  over  so  that  it  leaned  against  the 
trunk  of  the  large  tree  on  which  he  was  working.  Two 
places  about  one  cubit  apart  were  cut  out  of  the  trunk  of 
the  tree  with  stone  axes,  and  the  intervening  wood  was 
wedged  out.     In  this  manner  a  deep  cut  was  made.     It  is 


'Boas,  "The  Kwakiutl  of  Vancouver  Island,"  p.  323. 


I40  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

said  that  sometimes  this  upper  cut  was  also  burnt  out;  but 
this  was  probably  not  done  very  often,  because  the  fire 
makes  the  wood  brittle.  Then  planks  were  split  off  with 
wedges  between  these  two  deep  cuts."^ 

At  present  the  planks  are  cut  from  a  felled  tree  by  a 
somewhat  different  method,  seven  wedges  of  different  length 
being  used  to  split  them  off.  During  this  process  great  care 
is  taken  to  preserve  the  uniform  thickness  of  the  boards. 
A  number  of  devices  must  be  employed  to  achieve  this  end. 

"After  the  top  of  the  log  has  been  split  off,  it  is  thrown 
down  and  laid  flat  side  upward,  the  upper  end  resting  on 
a  log.  Then  the  thickness  of  the  first  plank  to  be  split  off 
is  marked  on  the  end  of  the  log.  It  is  made  three  finger- 
widths  thick.  The  plane  of  this  plank  never  runs  quite 
parallel  to  the  first  plane  of  splitting,  because  the  stresses 
in  the  wood,  owing  to  the  change  in  its  position,  run  nearly 
parallel  with  the  surface  of  the  first  plank.  Therefore  the 
thickness  of  the  second  plank  is  marked  only  two  finger- 
widths  under  the  last  line  of  division.  If  in  splitting  this 
plank  the  plane  of  separation  should  begin  to  dip  downward, 
the  upper  surface  of  the  log  is  loaded  with  logs  and  stones. 
Then  the  plane  of  separation  rises  again.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  turns  upward,  the  tree  is  turned  over,  and  the 
weight  of  the  wood  changes  the  inner  stresses  so  as  to 
cause  the  plane  to  dip  down  again.  The  longest  planks  that 
are  thus  cut  are  three  fathoms  and  a  half  long.  When 
planks  are  split  from  a  horizontal  log,  the  split  face  of  which 
lies  upward,  the  outer  margins  of  the  planks  always  turn 
downward,  so  that  the  upper  side  of  the  plank  is  convex 
near  its  sides,  while  the  lower  side  is  concave."* 


Fig.  26 
Boas,  "The  Kwakiutl,  etc.,"  p.  331 


^Ibid,  p.  328. 
Hbid,  p.  329. 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    141 

Great  skill  Is  displayed  in  bending  wood.  Thus,  the  sides 
of  boxes  are  made  of  one  board  which  is  bent  over  to  form 
the  corners  (see  Fig.  26).  "A  cut  is  made  in  the  wood  at 
right  angles  to  the  surface  of  the  plank.  Then  the  wood  is 
shaved  off  from  the  right-hand  side  so  that  the  surface  slants 
down  to  the  deep  cut.  After  these  have  been  made,  a  shal- 
low groove  is  made  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  plank.  After 
these  grooves  have  been  made,  the  board  is  placed  in  hot 
water  or  steam  and  put  between  two  level  planks,  which  are 
weighted  with  stones.  Thus  it  is  left  over  night.  When 
it  is  taken  out  on  the  following  morning,  the  plank  is  per- 
fectly level.  When  the  wood  is  to  be  bent  at  the  kerf,  a 
little  ditch  as  wide  as  the  board  is  dug  in  the  ground. 
Stones  are  heated  and  put  into  the  ditch.  Then  fresh  kelp 
is  placed  on  the  hot  stones  and  is  sprinkled  with  water. 
Then  the  board  is  placed  across  the  kelp  with  the  shallow 
groove  downward.  Sometimes  the  deeper  kerf  is  covered 
with  moss  or  soft  cedar-bark,  upon  which  hot  water  is 
dripped.  Then  that  side  of  the  plank  which  is  to  be  bent 
up  is  grasped  with  a  pair  of  tongs,  while  the  other  side  is 
held  down  by  a  stick  placed  near  the  kerf.  One  man  steps 
on  this  stick,  while  the  other  one,  who  holds  the  board  in  the 
tongs,  bends  it  over  slowly,  so  that  the  shallow  groove 
forms  the  outer,  convex  side  of  the  angle.  The  pressure  on 
the  stationary  part  of  the  board  prevents  the  breaking  of 
the  outer  fibres  of  the  wood."^ 

Another  equally  remarkable  process  characteristic  of  the 
entire  area  is  sewing  wood  whenever  two  pieces  are  to  be 
joined.^ 

The  preparation  of  fish-hooks  is  also  of  great  interest. 
The  following  is  a  close  translation  of  the  Indian  text : 

"When  the  fisherman  gets  ready,  when  he  first  goes  to 
fish  red  cod,  he  takes  a  branch  of  driftwood  of  fir  and  splits 
it  into  four  pieces.  The  length  of  each  is  one  span  of  our 
fingers  and  four  finger-widths.    Then  he  shaves  them  so  that 


^Ibid,  p.  331. 

*For  a  description  of  this  interesting  device  see  Boas,  ibid,  pp.  334-337- 


142  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

they  are  thin  and  round.  As  soon  as  he  has  finished,  he 
takes  kelp  and  puts  into  it  the  split  branches  which  are  to 
be  the  four  (branch)  hooks  for  cod.  He  has  also  four 
pieces  of  kelp.  When  night  comes,  he  digs  a  hole  in  the 
ashes  of  his  fire  and  puts  into  it  the  four  pieces  of  kelp  in 
which  the  (branch)  hooks  for  red  cod  are.  Then  he  covers 
them  over  and  leaves  them  the  whole  length  of  the  night 
until  morning.  As  soon  as  he  finishes  covering  them  over, 
he  takes  a  short  board  and  carves  out  a  rounded  mould  the 
same  thickness  ,as  the  thickness  of  the  (branch)  hook  for 
the  red  cod,  and  the  carved  mould  has  the  same  depth  as 
the  size  of  the  hook  that  is  to  be  made.  After  he  has 
finished  four  of  them,  he  puts  them  away. 

"Now  he  is  ready,  when  day  comes  the  next  morning.  In 
the  morning,  as  soon  as  day  comes,  he  digs  up  what  has 
been  covered  over,  and  he  rips  open  the  pieces  of  kelp 
while  they  are  still  warm,  and  he  takes  the  round  branches 
and  bends  them  into  the  carved  moulds  in  the  short  board, 
and  he  pushes  them  into  it.  He  does  so  with  all  four  of 
them.  As  soon  as  he  has  finished,  he  puts  them  away  in  a 
cool  place  in  the  house;  and  when  they  get  cold,  he  takes 
his  hooks  and  takes  them  out;  and  he  takes  tallow  (of  the 
deer)  and  chews  it;  and  when  it  is  soft,  he  heats  the  hooks 
by  the  fire;  and  he  only  stops  heating  them  when  they  are 
scorched.  Then  he  rubs  them  with  the  tallow,  and  he  puts 
them  back  again  into  the  place  where  they  had  been,  into  the 
carved  moulds  in  the  short  board.  The  reason  why  he 
puts  on  tallow  is  that  they  become  stiff  and  that  they  do 
not  open  again.  The  next  day,  when  they  are  cold,  he  takes 
them  out  again  from  the  carved  moulds  in  the  short  board. 
Now  the  hooks  are  brittle. 

"Then  he  takes  the  hollow-sided  bone  of  the  foreleg  of 
the  elk  and  breaks  it  in  pieces,  and  he  sharpens  thin  pieces. 
They  become  round,  and  one  end  is  sharp.  They  are  to 
be  the  bone  barbs  of  the  hooks.  As  soon  as  he  has  finished, 
he  ties  them  on  to  the  hooks.  He  has  as  his  means  of 
tying  them  split  spruce-roots. 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    143 

"When  he  has  finished,  he  takes  sea-weed  from  the  beach, 
and  spruce,  and  puts  them  into  a  small  kettle.  Then  he 
pours  salt  water  over  them  and  puts  it  over  the  fire  of  the 
house.  They  boil  for  a  long  time,  and  then  he  takes  them 
oflf.  When  the  water  gets  cold,  he  takes  his  four  branch 
hooks  and  puts  them  into  the  kettle.  They  stay  in  the  ket- 
tle for  four  days.  Then  he  takes  them  out  and  hangs  them 
up  in  the  corner  of  the  house."^ 

In  their  houses  the  Kwakiutl  use  heavy  logs  to  support  the 
wooden  framework.  The  handling  of  these  with  their  lim- 
ited mechanical  equipment  is  not  an  easy  task,  but  the 
Kwakiutl  have  overcome  the  difficulties  by  a  number  of 
ingenious  contrivances.    When  a  house  post  is  to  be  raised, 


Fig.  27 
Boas,  "The  Kwakiutl,  etc.,"  p.  338 

(see  fig.  27)  a  hole  is  dug  at  the  place  where  the  post  is  to  be 
erected,  which  extends  in  the  form  of  a  slanting  ditch  toward 
the  center  of  the  house.  The  outside  of  the  hole  where  the 
post  is  to  stand  is  protected  by  heavy  planks  driven  into  the 
ground.  Then  the  post  is  shoved  into  the  hole  and  is  raised 
gradually,  being  supported  by  logs  of  increasing  size  as  it  is 
being  raised. 

For  the  raising  of  the  long  and  heavy  roof  beam,  an- 
other device  is  employed.    The  illustration  (fig.  28)  shows 

^Ibid,  pp.  332-333. 


144  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

the  method  employed.  When  force  is  applied  to  the  end 
of  lever  e,  beam  c  is  raised.  At  the  same  time  it  is 
guided  so  as  to  slide  along  the  slanting  pole  {h).  Tem- 
porary support  {h)  is  used  to  keep  (c)  in  this  position. 
Then  the  parts  are  readjusted  and  the  process  is  repeated. 


Fig.  28 
Boas,  "The  Kwakiutl,  etc.,"  p.  339 

When  the  end  of  the  beam  approaches  the  top  of  post  (a), 
a  heavy  plank  is  tied  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  post  extend- 
ing above  it  so  as  to  prevent  beam  {c)  from  rolling  down 
on  the  other  side.  When  beam  (c)  is  in  place,  another 
plank  is  tied  on  the  side  of  post  {a)  on  which  the  beam 
was  rolled  up.  The  opposite  side  of  the  beam  is  raised  in 
a  similar  way. 

Another  description  of  the  making  of  one  type  of  horn 
spoon  is  translated  by  Boas  from  the  native  text: 

"Now  I  will  talk  about  the  making  of  the  horn  spoon, 
the  black  spoon.  When  the  head  of  the  mountain-goat  is 
taken  off,  it  is  kept  in  the  corner  of  the  house  for  four  days, 
and  it  is  placed  not  far  from  the  side  of  the  fire  of  the 
house;  and  when  the  heat  of  the  fire  strikes  it,  the  spoon- 
maker  turns  the  head  over  all  the  time;  and  when  it  gets 
warm,  he  places  it  nearer  the  fire.  He  watches  it  all  the 
time  so  that  it  does  not  get  burnt.  When  he  thinks  it  is 
warm  through  and  through,  he  takes  hold  of  the  head  and 
tries  to  pull  the  hair  off.  When  it  gets  loose,  he  knows 
that  the  horns  are  also  loosened.  He  takes  hold  of  the 
horn  with  his  right  hand,  and  with  his  left  hand  he  holds 
the  nose  of  the  head.  Then  he  twists  the  horn  a  little  and 
pulls  it  off.    Now  the  horn  has  been  blown  off  by  the  steam. 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    145 

He  also  does  the  same  with  the  other  one.  When  he  has 
them  off,  he  takes  his  hand-adze  and  a  block  of  wood  and  he 
adzes  it.  He  adzes  it  at  the  concave  side  of  the  horn, 
placing  the  thick  end  on  the  block  of  wood,  in  this  manner : 


Fig.  29 
As  soon  as  he  has  it  off,  he  adzes  off  the  'mouth'  of  the 
spoon  so  that  it  is  round,  in  this  manner: 


fi 


Fio.  30 

After  he  has  done  so,  he  measures  three  finger-widths, 
beginning  at  the  top  of  the  horn,  and  he  adzes  it  so  that 
it  is  notched  in  this  place,  and  it  is  in  this  way  when  he  has 
finished  it: 


Fig.  31 

"He  puts  away  his  hand-adze  and  takes  his  straight-knife. 
In  former  times  the  people  rubbed  them  down  with  rough 
sandstone  when  they  were  making  black  horn  spoons.  Now 
there  is  water  in  a  dish,  and  the  man  puts  it  down  at  his 
left-hand  side  while  he  is  rubbing  the  horn.  He  puts  the 
thick  end  into  the  water,  and  he  holds  it  by  the  small  end 
with  his  left  hand.  With  his  right  hand  he  holds  a  rough 
sandstone  and  rubs  the  horn.  Nowadays  the  modern  men 
adze  it.  They  shave  it  down  to  smooth  it  after  they  just 
begin  cutting  it.    After  all  this,  he  puts  a  small  kettle  half 


146  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

full  of  water  over  the  fire,  and  he  takes  two  cedar-sticks, 
each  one  span  long  and  half  the  thickness  of  a  finger.  He 
takes  split  cedar-bark  and  ties  the  ends  of  the  cedar-sticks 
together  with  the  cedar-bark.  Then  he  gets  another  piece 
of  cedar-bark  ready  to  tie  the  other  end  after  having  put 
the  spoon  in  between.    Then  it  is  this  way : 


Fig.  32 

(That  is,  two  straight  sticks  tied  loosely  together  at  one 
end.)  When  the  kettle  boils  up  on  the  fire,  he  takes  the 
spoon  and  puts  it  in.  He  does  not  leave  it  in  a  long  time 
before  taking  it  out  again.  Then  he  puts  the  spoon  near 
its  'mouth,'  between  the  cedar-sticks,  in  this  manner,  and 
he  takes  the  cedar-bark  and  ties  it  on  near  the  end  of  the 
spoon-spreader  into  which  the  spoon  is  put.  He  bends  back 
the  point,  and  holds  it  by  putting  it  into  cold  water,  so  that 
it  sets.  Then  it  does  not  bend  back  again,  but  is  kept  in 
position  as  it  gets  cold.  Next  he  takes  off  the  spoon-opener, 
and  he  takes  dried  dog-fish  skin  and  rubs  it  all  over  it,  so 
that  it  becomes  very  smooth  inside  and  outside.  When  it 
is  quite  smooth,  it  is  finished.  Now  the  black  horn  spoon 
is  finished  after  this."^ 

The  gathering,  preparation  and  eating  of  eel-grass  is 
described  in  the  following  passage : 

"In  springtime,  when  the  winter  is  past,  then  all  the 
women  get  ready  to  twist  eel-grass  ....  The  man's  wife 
who  is  going  to  twist  eel-grass  first  takes  her  eel-grass  twist- 
ing paddle  and  her  anchor-line  of  cedar-bark  rope,  and  also 
her  eel-grass  twisting  hat,  for  generally  they  wear  a  hat 


*Boas,  "Ethnology  of  the  Kwakiutl"   (ssth  Report,  Bureau  of  Ethnology, 
pp.   102-104). 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    147 

when  they  twist  eel-grass,  because  generally  sea-water 
splashes  into  their  faces  when  the  women  pull  up  the  twist- 
ing-stick with  the  eel-grass  twisted  around  its  end.  Then 
it  splashes  into  their  faces  when  they  wash  the  eel-grass; 
and  therefore  (the  woman)  wears  an  eel-grass  twisting  hat. 
She  carries  down  every  thing  as  she  goes  down  to  the  beach 
to  her  little  old  canoe  for  twisting  eel-grass,  and  she  also 
carries  her  bailer  and  her  eel-grass  twisting-stick.  She 
launches  her  small  old  canoe,  and  puts  into  it  what  I  have 
named.  When  it  is  all  aboard,  she  sits  in  the  stern  of  the 
small  eel-grass  twisting  canoe.  She  takes  up  her  eel-grass 
twisting  paddle  and  paddles,  and  she  goes  to  a  place  where 
she  knows  that  there  is  thick  eel-grass  and  that  the  eel-grass 
is  growing  in  soft  sand.  When  she  arrives  at  the  place 
where  the  eel-grass  is,  she  takes  the  cedar-bark  rope  and 
ties  the  stone  to  its  end  and  throws  it  into  the  water;  and 
when  it  touches  the  bottom  so  that  it  is  vertical,  she  ties 
it  to  the  stern-seat.  After  doing  so,  she  takes  her  twist- 
ing-stick and  puts  the  tip  into  the  water.  She  pushes  it 
down  into  the  sea-water  and  strikes  the  sandy  bottom  where 
there  is  much  eel-grass.  Then  she  begins  to  twist  it.  Then 
the  eel-grass  is  twisted  around  the  twisting-stick.  When  she 
cannot  turn  the  twisting-stick  any  more,  she  pulls  it  up.  The 
twisting  woman  pulls  up  the  twisting-stick.  As  soon  as 
the  eel-grass  comes  in  sight,  she  untwists  it  to  get  it  ofE 
from  her  twisting-stick,  and  then  the  eel-grass  comes  off; 
and  she  squeezes  one  span  around  it,  beginning  at  the 
head-end.  That  is  what  we  refer  to  as  the  roots.  She 
washes  it  in  salt  water,  so  that  the  sand  comes  off.  When  it 
is  all  off,  she  measures  two  spans  from  the  upper  end  of 
the  roots,  and  she  breaks  off  the  lower  end.  When  it  is  all 
off,  she  puts  it  in  front  of  herself,  and  she  puts  the  twist- 
ing-stick back  into  the  water,  and  she  does  the  same  as  she 
did  before.  When  she  has  much  of  it,  the  tide  rises,  for 
they  only  twist  at  spring  tide.  As  soon  as  the  tide  comes 
up,  she  hauls  up  the  anchor  and  goes  home;  and  when  she 
arrives  at  the  beach  of  her  house,  she  gets  out  of  her  old 


148  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

canoe  for  twisting  eel-grass.  She  takes  out  her  anchor  and 
carries  it  up ;  and  when  the  anchor-line  gets  taut,  she  puts  it 
down.  Then  she  sends  her  husband  to  go  and  invite  his 
tribe  to  come  and  peel  eel-grass.  The  man  immediately 
obeys  his  wife.  He  invites  his  tribe.  When  he  comes 
back,  he  clears  out  his  house,  and  spreads  the  mats  around 
for  those  who  are  going  to  peel  the  eel-grass  to  sit  down  on. 
As  soon  as  he  has  done  so,  he  takes  his  oil-dishes  and  oil 
and  brings  them,  so  that  they  are  ready.  Then  those  who 
are  to  peel  the  eel-grass  come  in;  and  when  they  are  all 
inside,  the  man  asks  the  young  men  of  his  numaym^  to  go 
and  carry  up  the  eel-grass.  Immediately  the  young  men  go 
and  carry  it  up.  They  carry  it  into  the  house  and  put  it 
down  in  front  of  those  who  are  to  peel  it.  The  man  takes 
the  oil  and  pours  it  into  the  oil-dishes;  and  when  the  oil 
is  in  every  one,  (the  young  men)  place  them  in  front  of 
those  who  are  to  peel  the  eel-grass,  at  the  outer  side.  There 
are  four  men  to  each  oil-dish.  Then  the  eel-grass  is  scat- 
tered in  front  of  those  who  are  to  peel  it.  When  this  is 
done,  the  men  take  up  four  pieces  of  eel-grass  and  pluck  off 
the  small  roots.  When  they  are  all  off,  they  peel  off  the 
leaves  of  the  tail-end.  They  begin  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
thick  root;  and  when  they  have  peeled  it  as  far  as  the 
soft  part  in  the  middle  of  the  eel-grass,  they  do  the  same 
with  the  other  three  pieces.  When  this  has  been  done  with 
all  of  them,  they  put  the  roots  together  so  that  they  are 
three  finger-widths  in  length,  and  then  they  break  them  off ; 
and  they  break  them  off  again  so  that  they  are  all  the  same 
length,  in  this  manner: 


Fig.  33 


^"Subdivision"  of  the  tribe.  A.  A.  G. 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    149 

Then  there  are  eight  pieces  in  all.     They  tie  them  to- 
gether with  the  leaves,  in  this  manner: 


Fig.  34 

and  they  hold  them  at  i.  Then  they  dip  (the  bundle)  into 
the  oil  and  eat  it,  and  all  the  others  do  the  same.  After  they 
have  finished  eating,  they  pick  up  what  they  did  not  eat 
and  go  out  of  the  house;  and  they  go  into  their  houses  and 
put  down  in  front  of  their  wives  the  eel-grass  that  they  have 
taken  along.  They  never  drink  water  before  they  go  out 
and  when  they  go  into  their  houses.  That  is  the  eel-grass 
peeling  feast  given  to  many  tribes,  for  it  is  the  food  of  the 
first  people  in  the  time  of  the  first  Indians  of  the  mythical 
period.  Therefore  an  eel-grass  feast  is  a  valuable  feast 
given  by  a  man.  That  is  all  that  is  to  be  said  about  eel- 
grass,  for  there  is  only  one  way  of  eating  it  and  of  get- 
ting it."^ 

^Ibid.,  pp.  5x0-5 14. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND 
INDUSTRY  (Continued) 

Applied  Knowledge   (Continued) 

Hopi  Pigments 

Another  example  of  applied  experience  and  technical 
mastery  is  supplied  by  the  Hopi  handling  of  pigments. 
In  their  ceremonies  the  Hopi  require  a  large  set  of  colors, 
to  which  they  ascribe  symbolic  significance.  Colors  are  used 
for  the  costumes  of  the  participants,  the  ceremonial  para- 
phernalia, the  bodily  decoration  of  priests,  and  most  of  all, 
the  designs  in  color  on  the  sand  and  the  painting  of  the 
katcinas,  doll-like  representations  of  supernatural  beings. 

Space  does  not  permit  to  discuss  here  the  elaborate  and 
often  beautiful  designs  made  on  the  ground  by  permitting 
narrow  streams  of  different  colored  sand  to  fall  from  the 
hand  over  the  surface  of  the  ground,  thus  forming  designs.^ 

Stephen  enumerates  some  thirty  odd  pigments  used  by 
the  Hopi  for  these  various  purposes.  One  pigment  known 
as  "green  bread"  is  prepared  in  the  following  way: 

"About  ten  ounces  of  pinon  gum  is  put  in  an  earthern  pot 
and  set  on  the  fire,  a  very  little  water  being  poured  in  to 
keep  it  from  burning  and  it  is  then  allowed  to  roast.  A 
large  basin  is  set  conveniently  with  about  a  gallon  of  water 
in  it,  and  over  this  basin  a  yucca  sieve  is  laid,  and  in  the 
sieve  a  quantity  of  horse  hair,  or  shredded  yucca  fibre. 
After  the  gum  has  melted  and  boiled  for  about  ten  minutes 
it  is  poured  upon  the  hair  lying  in  the  sieve  and  allowed  to 
strain  through  into  the  water,  where  it  accumulates  in  a 
white  mass.     The  operator  then  puts  about  three  ounces 


'For  illustrations  of  these  sand  designs  see  James  Stevenson,  "Navajo 
Ceremonial  of  Hasjeiti  Dailjis,"  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  Eighth  Report,  plates 
CXX  to  CXXIIL 

ISO 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    151 

of  fragments  of  blue  and  green  copper  carbonate  Into  a  small 
muller  and  rubs  them  into  a  pulp,  then  pours  a  little  water 
in  the  muller  and  rubs  the  pulp  into  a  liquid.  He  then  turns 
to  the  gum,  which  is  stiff  but  still  pliable,  and  after  kneading 
and  stretching  it  back,  and  forth,  doubling  and  twisting  and 
pulling,  it  becomes  soft  and  of  glistening  whiteness.  After 
manipulating  the  gum  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  he 
folds  it  up  compactly,  dips  it  lightly  in  the  blue-pulp  liquid, 
and  puts  it  back  in  the  roasting  pot,  which  has  been  filled 
with  water,  and  sets  it  on  the  fire  to  boil.  As  the  water 
heats,  the  gum  melts,  and  just  before  it  comes  to  a  boil  he 
pours  in  all  the  blue-pulp  liquid,  then,  as  the  mixture  boils 
he  maintains  a  constant  stirring  with  a  long  rod.  He  dips 
up  some  of  the  mass  from  time  to  time  on  the  rod  to  examine 
its  color,  and  the  longer  it  boils  the  darker  it  grows,  and 
after  about  twenty  minutes  he  takes  the  jar  off  the  fire, 
pours  off  the  hot  water  and  pours  in  some  cold.  He  then 
takes  the  blue-green  mass  out,  and  works  it  around  in  his 
hands,  forming  a  cake  of  about  eight  ounces."^ 

Another  pigment  called  "bright  yellow  paint"  is  prepared 
by  a  priest,  as  follows  : 

"A  small  fire  is  made  at  any  convenient  court  nook,  or 
on  the  roof  of  a  house,  and  two  or  three  flat  stones  set  on 
edge  around  it  support  an  earthen  pot  of  about  two  gallons 
capacity,  and  about  half  a  gallon  of  water  is  poured  into  it. 
The  expert  then  puts  in  about  two  ounces  of  Si-una,  an  im- 
pure almogen  (alunogen?),  rubbing  it  to  a  powder  between 
his  fingers,  and  in  the  same  way  adds  about  the  same  quantity 
of  tu-wak-ta,  a  very  fine,  white  calcareous  sandstone.  He 
stirs  frequently  with  a  gourd  ladle,  and  as  the  mixture  boils 
it  foams  violently,  and  having  subsided,  some  more  of  the 
two  substances  is  added,  and  then  as  much  of  the  dried 
flowers  of  the  Bigelovia  graveolens  as  can  be  crowded 
into  the  vessel,  and  then  enough  water  to  fill  it.  The  con- 
tents are  allowed  to  boil  for  about  half  an  hour,  during 
which  they  are  stirred  as  much  as  possible.    A  yucca  sieve 

*A.  M.  Stephen,  "Pigments  in  Ceremonials  of  the  Hopi,"  p.  263. 


152  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

is  placed  over  a  large  basin  and  the  contents  of  the  pot 
strained  through  it,  the  flowers  being  squeezed  dry  and 
thrown  away,  and  there  is  thus  obtained  about  two  quarts 
of  a  dull,  yellow  liquid.  The  process  just  described  is  re- 
peated and  the  infusion  is  poured  back  into  the  pot,  and 
as  it  again  comes  to  a  boil  more  of  the  earthy  ingredients 
are  added  in  small  quantities  from  time  to  time. 

"The  tint  of  the  liquid  is  tested  on  the  skin  occasionally; 
should  it  prove  too  pale,  another  vessel  is  put  on  the  fire 
and  another  infusion  obtained  by  the  process  first  described, 
enough  of  which  is  added  to  the  liquid  in  the  first  pot  to 
bring  it  to  the  desired  tint.  Should  the  liquid  be  too  dark, 
more  of  the  mineral  substances  and  water  are  added.  The 
process  occupies  about  four  hours  and  the  mixture  has  then 
boiled  away  to  about  a  pint,  of  a  bright  yellow  color  and 
pasty  consistency,  which  on  drying  forms  a  hard  cake."^ 

Tewa  Ethnohotany^ 

The  way  in  which  knowledge  and  superficial  classifica- 
tion, accurate  observation  and  erroneous  interpretation  are 
inextricably  intermingled  in  early  man's  ideas  of  things  in 
nature  is  well  illustrated  by  the  botany  of  the  Tewa. 

The  Tewa  say  that  the  leaves  make  the  plant  grow;  after 
the  leaves  have  fallen,  the  plant  stops  growing.  In  the  win- 
ter the  tree  is  not  dead,  it  has  merely  stopped  growing  be- 
cause it  has  no  leaves.  It  remains  in  this  condition  until 
the  leaves  come  again.  The  real  function  of  the  root  is 
not  understood.  The  Tewa  do  not  know  that  it  takes 
up  water,  but  they  say,  "The  roots  have  to  get  wet  or  the 
plant  dies."  The  tree  is  said  to  sit  on  its  roots  and  the 
word  for  root  is  the  same  as  for  haunches,  or  the  base,  bot- 
tom or  foot  of  inanimate  objects.  The  bark  protects  the 
tree  and  the  word  for  bark  is  the  same  as  for  skin.    The 


'Stephen,  ibid,  p.  262. 

*This  brief  sketch  is  based  on  the  meritorious  contribution  of  John  P. 
Harrington  and  others,  "Ethnobotany  of  the  Tewa  Indians,"  Bureau  of 
American  Ethnology,  Bulletin  55. 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    153 

seed  is  believed  to  contain  the  little  plant.     "The  plant  is 
in  the  seed,"  said  one  informant,  "but  you  cannot  see  it." 

All  nouns  denoting  plants  and  most  nouns  denoting  parts 
of  plants  have  vegetal  gender.  While  plants  are  thus  sep- 
arated hnguistically  and  conceptually  from  the  rest  of  nature, 
some  other  things,  for  instance  a  mountain,  also  have  vegetal 
gender.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Tewa  observe  very  closely 
even  minute  differences  in  the  plants  of  their  region.  They 
have,  for  example,  a  separate  name  for  every  one  of  the 
coniferous  trees  in  that  locality,  the  differences  between 
which  are  so  slight  that  the  average  white  man  readily  over- 
looks them. 

Some  linguistic  classifications  tend  to  mislead  the  white 
student  insofar  as  they  might  be  taken  to  imply  deeper  in- 
sight than  the  Tewa  really  possess.  Thus,  one  term  is  used 
by  them  for  leaves,  the  petals  of  flowers  and  the  needles 
of  coniferous  trees.  There  is  a  word  for  flower  or  flow- 
ering plant  which  is  also  used  figuratively  in  the  sense  of 
pretty.  Young  men  use  it  toward  their  sweethearts,  mean- 
ing "my  flower."  Women  and  girls  are  often  designated 
by  this  term.  A  cumulus  cloud  is  called  "white  flower 
cloud."  An  eagle  down  is  called  "eagle  flower."  There  is 
a  word  for  bud  which  is  used  for  any  bud  or  young  sprout, 
whether  a  flower,  leaf  or  stem.  Of  a  flower  bud  that  has 
not  burst,  the  Tewa  say,  "The  flower  is  enveloped  or  cov- 
ered," or  "The  flower  has  not  yet  burst,"  or  "The  flower 
is  an  egg." 

Of  all  fruits  which  are  green  when  unripe  a  term  meaning 
green  is  used  when  they  are  in  this  condition.  On  the  other 
hand,  of  gourds,  squashes,  pumpkins,  muskmelons  and 
watermelons,  a  term  meaning  hard  is  used  to  indicate  ripe- 
ness and  one  meaning  soft  to  indicate  unripeness.^ 

The  interest  taken  in  leaves  Is  reflected  in  the  terms  used 
about  them.     Thus  there  is  one  term  for  leaf,  another  for 


'As  the  actual  condition  of  these  plants  in  the  state  of  ripeness  and 
unripeness  is  the  reverse  of  that  indicated,  it  seems  that  the  investigator 
has  in  this  case  misunderstood  the  situation. 


154  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

leaf  surface,  still  another  for  leaf  edge,  as  well  as  terms 
for  leaf  point,  leaf  vein  (or  fibre),  leaf  juice  (or  water)  and 
leaf  stem.  Even  more  instructive  as  revealing  the  minute 
attention  paid  to  leaves  are  the  terms  describing  the  sur- 
faces of  leaves,  there  being  terms  for  smooth,  shiny,  rough, 
ridged,  grooved,  veined,  hairy,  course  haired,  downy  or 
fluffy,  prickly,  thorny  and  sticky. 

The  words  for  color  are  white,  black,  red,  yellow,  blue, 
watery  green,  brown  and  grey,  with  the  corresponding 
nouns,  but  there  is  no  word  meaning  color.  To  find  out  the 
color  of  a  man's  horse,  one  asks,  "How  is  your  horse?" 
and  if  that  is  not  definite  enough,  the  question  follows,  "Is 
it  red  or  is  it  white?" 

There  is  a  word  for  grass.  It  may  be  used  for  all  true 
grasses  and  grasslike  plants.^ 


These  descriptive  sketches  of  Kwakiutl  industry,  of  the 
preparation  of  Hopi  pigments  and  of  the  botanical  stock- 
in-trade  of  the  Tewa,  bring  evidence  of  the  possession  and 
utilization  of  knowledge.  These,  however,  are  but  dis- 
jointed fragments  of  what  is  in  fact  an  incoherent  and  dis- 
organized but,  withal,  enormous  stock  of  concrete  informa- 
tion amassed  by  early  man  in  the  course  of  his  contact  with 
things  and  utilized  by  him  for  his  purposes. 

Without  devoting  to  this  important  aspect  of  the  life  of 
primitive  man  the  space  it  deserves,  we  might  roughly 
indicate  the  range  of  his  command  of  objective  data  which 
the  study  of  early  civilization  discloses.  The  pursuits  of 
hunting,  fishing  and  the  gathering  of  the  wild  products  of 
nature  imply  an  ever  increasing  familiarity  with  the  shapes, 
qualities  and  habits  of  animals  and  plants.  The  utilization 
of  these  animals  and  plants  or  of  parts  of  them  for  food, 

'A  similarly  instructive  sketch  on  "The  Ethnozoology  of  the  Tewa  In- 
dians" by  the  same  author  i»  available  (Bureau  of  American  Ethnology, 
Bulletin  56). 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    155 

for  clothing,  for  shelter,  involves  further  knowledge,  re- 
vealed everywhere,  of  at  least  the  principal  anatomical 
elements  of  animals  and  of  the  properties  of  plants,  such 
as  durability,  greater  or  less  resistance  to  water,  pliability, 
hardness,  and  the  like.  The  familiarity  with  animal  life 
often  goes  further  than  this,  rules  being  passed  against  the 
killing  of  young  animals,  and  periods  of  the  hunt  being 
adjusted  to  the  seasons  of  the  maximum  availability  of  a 
particular  species.  It  goes  without  saying  that  the  two  later 
achievements,  the  cultivation  of  plants  and  the  domestica- 
tion of  animals,  involve  processes  in  the  course  of  which  this 
knowledge  of  the  static  and  dynamic  qualities  of  the  rep- 
resentatives of  the  two  great  domains  of  nature  becomes 
vastly  extended. 

Another  important  addition  to  knowledge,  involving  of- 
ten detailed  information  utilized  with  minute  care,  is  im- 
plied in  the  industrial  field.  The  properties  of  the  ma- 
terials used  become  known  and  the  knowledge  is  judiciously 
applied.  Where  wood  is  used  for  building,  different  quali- 
ties or  ages  of  trees  are  selected  for  particular  objects  or 
parts  of  objects.  In  the  making  of  baskets  more  pliable 
materials  are  utilized  where  needed,  while  at  points  where 
greater  strength  is  required,  such  as  the  bottom  or  the 
edges,  tougher  materials  are  used.  The  scraping,  tanning 
and  sewing  of  skins,  implies  a  multiplicity  of  detailed  points 
of  utilized  knowledge.  And  the  same,  of  course,  applies 
to  the  processes  of  cooking,  as  revealed,  for  example,  in 
Boas'  impressive  collection  of  recipes  of  the  Kwakiutl  cook- 
ing art.  The  same  applies  to  the  often  elaborate  processes 
involved  in  the  chipping  and  flaking  of  stone,  in  weaving, 
spinning,  carving  and,  as  in  Africa,  smelting  and  casting 
of  metals. 

The  art  of  the  preparation  of  poisons  is  encountered 
among  the  lowest  tribes,  such  as  the  Bushmen  and  the  pyg- 
mies of  Central  Africa,  who  have  for  long  been  able  to  pre- 
serve the  independence  of  their  relatively  low  civilizations 
at  the  points  of  their  poisoned  arrows.    The  curative  proper- 


156  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

ties  of  certain  plants  have  been  discovered  in  early  times, 
and  everywhere  the  art  of  the  doctor-magician  is  supple- 
mented, not  infrequently  in  the  same  person,  by  that  of  the 
practical  pharmacologist. 

Not  the  least  conspicuous  chapter  in  the  primitive  book 
of  knowledge  is  that  referring  to  man  himself.  Many 
unprejudiced  travelers  and  all  ethnologists  have  noted  the 
very  satisfactory  understanding  of  human  nature  observable 
among  primitive  tribes.  In  war  and  in  council,  in  the  popu- 
lar wisdom  expressed  in  proverbs,  as  in  Africa,  in  leader- 
ship— whether  that  of  the  chief  or  that  of  the  priest — 
there  is  revealed  the  same  shrewd  understanding  of  man  by 
man,  false  in  part,  but  in  part  true,  which  is  equally  char- 
acteristic of  modern  life  and  is  only  raised  to  a  higher  power 
among  those  who  make  man  a  specialty,  our  great  writers. 

As  one  surveys  this  vast  field  of  concrete,  objective,  mat- 
ter-of-fact knowledge  and  performance,  he  is  tempted  to 
identify  early  man  with  his  modern  brother,  thus  discredit- 
ing, once  and  for  all,  the  theory  of  the  magic-ridden  savage 
of  primitive  days. 

At  this  point  we  must  call  halt  to  the  over-sympathetic 
inquirer,  for  critical  thought  and  a  sober  outlook  upon  things 
is  quite  foreign  to  early  man.  He  sees  straight  and  hears 
straight,  with  a  sure  hand  he  fashions  his  tools  and  applies 
them  to  the  manufacture  of  articles  of  use  and  adornment, 
with  much  common  sense  and  shrewdness  and  great  physical 
adeptness  he  handles  the  plants,  animals  and  humans  of 
his  environment.  But  he  does  not  think  straight;  at  least 
not  when  it  comes  to  explanations  and  hypotheses.  And 
what  is  a  world  view  but  a  set  of  explanations  and  hy- 
potheses? The  world  view  of  early  man  is  supernaturalism. 
How  did  it  come,  then,  that  such  vast  stores  of  cold  fact, 
that  so  much  common  sense  and  perspicacity  and  shrewdness 
should  have  left  practically  untouched  that  all-Important 
aspect  of  primitive  thought  which  refers  to  the  interpreta- 
tion of  phenomena?  The  answer  to  this  query  cannot  be 
fully  given  here.     Briefly  we  shall  deal  with  it  in  the  last 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    157 

paragraphs  of  this  book.  Here  only  a  few  additional  re- 
marks may  be  permitted. 

In  brief,  then,  the  early  system  of  knowledge  is  a  highly 
pragmatic  system.^  It  is  semi-automatic,  as  it  were,  being 
translated  in  terms  of  behavior  without  becoming  a  field 
of  contemplation  on  its  own  account.  Thus,  while  there  is 
knowledge  there  is  no  inquiry,  while  there  is  common  sense, 
there  is  no  critical  thought,  while  there  is  expertness  there 
is  no  professional  addiction  to  investigation.^  The  art  of 
drawing  abstract  conceptual  inferences  from  a  mass  of  com- 
parable data  is  as  yet  unlearned,  the  habit  of  testing  hy- 
potheses as  to  their  truth  not  their  utility,  as  yet  unformed. 

Additional  light  can  be  thrown  on  this  problem  of  early 
knowledge  by  a  glance  at  invention  as  revealed  in  the  pro- 
ducts of  industry. 

Invention 

There  is  one  mental  process,  still  practical  to  be  sure, 
but  distinctive  in  its  nature,  the  operation  of  which  is  at- 
tested to  by  the  material  reviewed  in  the  two  preceding 
sections.  It  is  invention.  In  the  devices  used  for  the  hunt- 
ing and  ensnaring  of  animals  and  the  catching  of  fish,  in 
the  conveyances  employed  for  transportation  by  land  and 
by  water,  in  the  building  of  houses,  boats,  canoes  and  rafts, 
in  the  making  of  pots  and  the  weaving  of  baskets,  in  spin- 
ning and  sewing  and  the  tanning  of  skins,  in  the  preparation 
and  utilization  of  tools  and  weapons,  there  is  abundant 
evidence  of  the  inventive  operation  of  the  early  mind. 


'A  curious  side  light  is  thrown  on  some  well-known  tenets  of  the  prag- 
matic philosophy  by  this  intellectual  insolvency  of  the  primitive  mind. 
Knowledge,  when  acquired  and  used  mainly  as  a  guide  to  conduct,  not  as 
valuable  on  its  own  account,  does  not  bring  forth  those  fruits  of  compre- 
hension and  enlightenment  which  are  the  prize  of  a  more  detached  attitude. 

^The  only  type  of  specialization  in  knowledge  which  primitive  society 
reveals  is  exhibited  in  the  individuals  whom  one  might  designate  as  pro- 
fessional gossips.  They  are  the  ones  who  make  it  a  point  to  know  all  there 
is  to  be  known  of  the  traditions,  myths,  customs,  and  personal  episodes  of 
the  group.  The  almost  invariable  presence  of  such  individuals  in  primitive 
communities  is  a  relatively  recent  discovery  of  ethnologists.  To  the  enquir- 
ing  student  these  human   archives  prove  of  the  greatest  use. 


158  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

An  invention,  on  its  objective  side,  represents  a  novel  com- 
bination of  things  and  processes  in  such  a  way  as  to  achieve 
a  desired  result.  On  its  psychological  side,  an  invention  is 
the  utilization  in  thought  of  the  discovered  properties  of 
things  and  processes  in  such  a  way  as  to  produce  the  objec- 
tive invention. 

The  extent  to  which  discoveries  and  the  utilization  of  dis- 
coveries, which  is  invention,  go  hand  in  hand,  especially 
in  primitive  society,  is  not  always  realized.  To  bring  home 
this  point  it  may  prove  useful  to  enumerate  some  features 
of  primitive  industry  which  one  would  class  as  inventions. 
The  making  of  fire  by  means  of  friction  is  an  invention. 
The  friction  may  be  produced  by  a  sawing  motion  in  which 
two  pieces  of  wood  are  utilized,  or  by  the  revolution  of  a 
stick  in  a  cavity  in  a  board,  the  revolutions  being  produced 
by  a  rapid  reciprocating  motion  of  the  two  palms  between 
which  the  stick  is  held.  The  pump  drill  of  the  Iroquois  and 
of  other  tribes  and  the  bow  drill  of  the  Eskimo  involve  addi- 
tions to  this  in  the  form  of  further  inventions,  by  means  of 
which  the  continuity  of  the  revolutions  is  secured  and  the 
speed  increased.  Numerous  elements  in  a  boat  or  a  canoe 
are  inventions:  the  long  and  narrow  shape,  the  keel  (if 
there  Is  one),  the  attachment  of  the  oars,  as  in  the  Eskimo 
woman's  boat,  the  oar  itself,  or  the  paddle  with  its  long 
handle  and  its  broad  blade  by  means  of  which  the  resistance 
of  the  water  is  translated  into  propelling  motion,  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  sail  which  fulfills  a  similar  function  with  refer- 
ence to  the  air  or  wind.  Further  inventions  are  repre- 
sented by  the  hook,  which  is  used  for  catching  fish  in  almost 
all  areas  where  fishing  is  found;  the  barbs  on  arrows  and 
spears;  the  spear  thrower  which  adds  a  leverage  to  the 
arm  and  enhances  the  strength  and  accuracy  of  the  thrust; 
the  composite  harpoon  of  the  Eskimo  with  its  ball  and  socket 
device  and  the  detachable  point;  the  composite  bow  of  the 
same  people,  with  its  reinforcing  bone  attachments,  some 
of  which  give  greater  strength,  others  greater  elasticity  to 
the  weapon;  the  use  of  feathers  on  arrows  and  the  spiral 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    159 

attachment  of  these  which  is  encountered  in  many  tribes; 
the  employment  of  the  lever,  two  examples  of  which  were 
cited  from  the  Kwakiutl;  the  principle  of  release  which  is 
utilized  in  so  many  traps;  the  method  of  bending  and  of 
sewing  wood  which  is  current  among  the  tribes  of  the  North- 
west Coast;  the  preparation  of  bark  by  beating,  soaking 
and  drying  so  as  to  fit  it  for  the  making  of  wearable  mate- 
rials ;  and  so  on,  through  the  wellnigh  endless  series  of  primi- 
tive inventions.  All  of  these  refer  to  very  primitive  condi- 
tions, for  no  mention  was  made  of  those  other  numerous 
inventions  implied  in  the  domestication  of  animals,  the  cul- 
tivation of  plants,  the  origination  of  the  wheel,  etc.,  etc. 

The  term  invention  is  usually  applied  only  to  objects  or 
devices,  but  it  must  be  extended  to  cover  processes  even 
though  these  may  be  executed  by  the  hands  alone.  The  pot 
maker,  the  basket  weaver,  the  wood  carver,  all  employ  cer- 
tain sets  of  motions  thus  to  achieve  with  speed  and  accuracy 
the  desired  technical  results.  These  motions  are  often 
highly  complicated  and  not  by  any  means  easily  learned. 
Such  complexes  of  motions,  designated  by  Boas  "motor 
habits,"  must  be  regarded  as  inventions,  inventions  in  a 
purely  dynamic  level.  If  the  hand  and  the  object  worked 
upon  are  conceived  as  a  temporarily  mobile  mechanism, 
the  movements  of  the  hand  represent  the  dynamic  principle 
which  make  the  mechanism  work  in  order  to  achieve  the 
desired  result,  namely,  the  transformation  of  the  material 
into  the  finished  article.  This  dynamic  principle,  the  move- 
ments of  the  hand,  always  works  poorly  while  the  process 
is  a  new  one.  The  development  of  a  so-called  technique 
consists  in  the  establishment  of  motor  habits  which  com- 
prise a  series  of  dynamic  adjustments,  discovered  in  the 
course  of  the  process  itself  and  deliberately  or  automatically 
utilized  while  the  technique  is  being  improved.  These  dyna- 
mic adjustments,  when  first  made,  are  inventions.  The 
same  principle  applies  even  when  the  results  achieved  are 
purely  dynamic,  as  for  example,  in  the  wielding  of  a  weapon 
or  the  paddling  of  a  canoe. 


i6o  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

Like  everything  else,  motor  habits  become  fixed  and 
standardized,  and  are  taught  as  elements  of  established 
techniques  when  the  young  are  instructed  in  industrial  pur- 
suits by  their  elders.  But  it  must  also  be  remembered  that 
every  craftsman  inevitably  makes  some  individual  adjust- 
ments, and  that  the  expert  craftsman  becomes  one  largely 
by  dint  of  such  individual  additions  to  the  technical  process, 
by  dint,  that  is,  of  a  new  set  of  dynamic  inventions  which 
are  incorporated  in  his  motor  habits. 

Now  all  of  these  inventions,  whether  static  or  dynamic, 
either  were  discoveries  or  were  preceded  by  discoveries. 
Heat  or  even  fire  must  have  been  produced  by  friction  ac- 
cidentally before  friction  was  utilized  deliberately  to  produce 
fire,  and  most  likely  the  accident  of  discovery  also  suggested 
the  method  used,  such  as  rubbing  one  board  against  another 
with  a  sawing  motion  or  revolving  a  stick  in  a  cavity  in 
a  board.  The  shapes  of  boats  and  canoes  represent,  with- 
out doubt,  a  prolonged  process  of  non-deliberate  trial  and 
error  in  the  course  of  which  certain  shapes  proved  more 
satisfactory  for  the  attainment  of  speed  and  safety.  The 
composite  harpoon  never  could  have  been  originated  except 
through  accidental  and  repeated  discoveries  of  the  imperfect 
working  of  a  spear  under  the  required  conditions,  and  what 
could  have  suggested  the  detachable  point  but  the  repeated 
and  disastrous  breaking  of  the  spear?  And  so  on  with  the 
other  inventions.  It  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  other 
factors,  some  perhaps  of  a  religious  or  magical  nature,  may 
have  contributed  to  certain  practical  inventions  or  to  the 
antecedent  discoveries  as,  for  example,  in  the  case  of  the 
feathered  arrow  where,  as  Wundt  suggests,^  the  analogy 
with  the  bird  brought  to  mind  by  the  flight  of  the  arrow  may 
have  first  led  to  the  attaching  of  feathers.  This  is,  of 
course,  purely  speculative,  although  psychologically  feasible. 
The  tendency  to  call  upon  such  extraneous  motives  to  ac- 
count for  discoveries  or  inventions  can,  however,  be  easily 
exaggerated,  for  the  objective  conditions  of  matter-of-fact 

'See  p.  352. 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    i6i 

procedure  usually  suffice  to  account  for  the  discoveries  made* 
The  preceding  sketch  reveals  both  the  scope  and  the  limi- 
tation of  primitive  invention.  That  the  invention  itself 
was  always  deliberate  cannot  be  doubted,  although  in  many 
instances  it  may  have  consisted  in  nothing  but  a  deliberate 
reproduction  of  a  discovery.  In  more  complicated  inven- 
tions a  number  of  such  inventions  were  combined  to  achieve 
the  desired  result,  but  such  complicated  inventions  were 
doubtlessly  made  one  by  one,  with  perhaps  considerable  pe- 
riods of  time  separating  each  succeeding  improvement. 
However  that  may  be,  early  man  deserves  credit  for  ingenu- 
ity and  originality  at  least  in  the  utilization  and  combina- 
tion of  discovered  properties  and  processes. 

At  the  same  time,  it  is  easy  to  exaggerate  the  amount  and 
overestimate  the  worth  of  the  mental  effort  involved  in 
early  inventions.  For  each  new  step  of  innovation  is  but 
a  slight  one.  It  is  directly  controlled  by  the  disclosure  of 
an  error  or  imperfection  or  by  an  accidental  discovery  of  a 
process  or  principle  that  might  be  introduced  to  enhance 
the  effectiveness  of  a  given  device.  There  Is  no  evidence 
that  any  individuals  in  early  life  devoted  themselves  profes- 
sionally or  exclusively  to  the  making  of  such  inventions,  and 
although  it  must  be  assumed  that  men  In  these  old  days 
differed  in  inventive  ability  as  they  do  now,  the  scope  for 
the  exercise  of  such  ability  was  limited.  It  would  there- 
fore be  Incorrect  to  think  in  this  connection  of  mental  visions, 
of  bold  flights  of  the  Imagination,  the  presence  of  which  al- 
lies the  mental  activities  of  some  modern  inventors  to  the 
creativeness  of  the  philosopher,  the  scientist  or  the  artist.^ 

^This  distinction  between  invention  in  the  narrower  sense,  that  is, 
mechanical  invention  and  creativeness,  is  not  usually  understood.  Even 
today  the  vast  majority  of  mechanical  inventions  imply  a  mental  process 
that  is  highly  pragmatic  and  involves  a  minimum  of  imaginative  elements. 
The  problem  is  to  make  a  thing  work,  and  this  is  achieved  by  the  manipula- 
tion of  established  mechanical  principles  and  on  the  background  of  other 
known  mechanical  devices  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  same  or  similar 
tasks.  All  such  inventions  are  highly  pragmatic  in  character  and  the 
fundamental  processes  involved  are  radically  distinct  from  philosophic, 
scientific  or  artistic  creativeness,  which  implies  imaginative  constructs, 
usually,  even  typically  distinguished  by  their  partial  or  even  entire  non- 
adjustment  to  established  conditions,  excepting  those  of  their  own  making. 


1 62  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

To  return  to  the  element  of  discovery  In  inventions,  the 
contrast  between  the  primitive  and  the  modern  is  not  as 
great  in  this  particular  as  might  offhand  be  supposed.  Mod- 
ern inventions — speaking  primarily  of  mechanical  ones — 
are  also,  in  most  instances,  applied  discoveries.  The  in- 
novation is  not  the  product  of  detached  mental  speculation, 
but  is  brought  into  being  through  the  agency  of  discoveries 
made  in  the  course  of  experimentation.  The  difference 
between  the  modern  and  the  primitive  situation  lies  in  the 
nature  of  the  experimental  conditions.  The  modern  in- 
ventor, in  facing  the  problem  of  adding  a  new  function  to 
an  already  complicated  machine,  is  in  many  ways  admirably 
fitted  for  his  task.  He  is  trained  in  the  theory  of  mechanics, 
which  saves  him  the  trouble  of  many  vain  attempts:  he 
knows  the  limits  within  which  he  must  operate.  Further, 
he  is  familiar  in  minute  detail  with  the  nature  of  the  ma- 
chine he  is  about  to  improve  and  with  many  other  similar 
machines  of  the  past  and  the  present.  Again,  he  has  a  clear 
conception  of  the  particular  additional  improvement  that  is 
required  of  him.  And  finally,  he  is  furnished  the  tools  of 
experimentation  which  make  it  possible  for  him  to  condense 
into  a  relatively  short  period  a  tremendous  amount  of  trial 
and  error.  Under  these  conditions,  the  discoveries  which 
lead  to  the  invention  are  practically  bound  to  occur  with  lit- 
tle delay.  That  this  is  so  is  attested  by  the  financial  status 
of  such  inventors,  guaranteed  them  by  their  employers, 
men  who  are  not  usually  notable  for  the  appreciation  of  de- 
ferred results. 

What  modern  science,  industry  and  social  organization 
make  possible  in  this  direction  may  be  illustrated  by  an 
example  from  recent  history. 

When  the  aerial  activities  of  the  war  suggested  the  de- 
sirability of  a  radical  improvement  in  aeroplane  motors. 
President  Wilson  charged  his  Secretary  of  the  Treasury, 
Mr.  McAdoo,  with  the  accomplishment  of  this  task.  Mr. 
McAdoo,  who  had  had  previous  experience  in  engineering 
enterprises,  retained  two  consulting  engineers,  the  brothers 


ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS  AND  INDUSTRY    163 

X  and  Y,  and  placed  them  in  a  position  where  they  could 
exercise  a  free  hand  in  the  solution  of  the  problem.  X  and 
Y  then  summoned  three  experts,  Messrs.  A,  B  and  C,  each 
one  of  whom  was  associated  in  a  consulting  capacity  with  one 
of  the  great  automobile  concerns.  A  was  an  expert  on  car- 
buretors, B — on  gases,  C — on  machine  designing.  These 
gentlemen  were  made  cognizant  of  the  problem  before  them, 
the  requirements  to  be  met  including  the  following  speci- 
fications. The  weight  of  the  new  motor  was  not  to  exceed 
iy2  or  i^  lbs.  per  h.p.  This  specification  was  to  obtain 
even  if  the  motor  were  fed  with  very  low  grade  gasoline. 
The  parts  of  the  motor  were  to  be  standardized  and  made 
interchangeable,  so  that  the  motor  could  be  disassembled 
and  reassembled  under  most  adverse  conditions,  and  broken 
or  otherwise  disabled  parts  could  be  easily  replaced.  The 
standardization  of  the  parts  of  the  motor  was  required  as 
a  condition  for  economical  mass  production. 

The  required  specifications  having  been  indicated,  the  ex- 
perts A,  B,  and  C  went  into  consultation  in  a  room  of  a 
Washington  hotel  and  remained  there,  their  meals  being 
served  to  them,  until  they  had  completed  in  every  detail 
the  designs  for  the  new  motor.  For  the  mechanical  require- 
ments of  the  task  a  staff  of  trained  designers  was  placed 
at  their  disposal. 

When  this  was  accomplished,  the  engineers  X  and  Y 
"farmed  out"  the  different  parts  of  the  motor  to  a  number 
of  machine  manufacturing  concerns,  in  accordance  with 
their  special  facilities.  The  parts  of  the  motor  were  brought 
to  Washington  and  assembled.  The  motor  was  then  sub- 
jected to  the  most  exacting  experimental  tests,  and  more 
than  fulfilled  all  expectations.  Certain  parts  of  the  motor, 
however,  were  slightly  altered  in  shape  through  the  stresses 
and  strains  of  the  tests,  a  condition  that  is  inevitable  no 
matter  how  accurate  or  detailed  the  theoretical  specifica- 
tions. The  parts  of  the  motor,  in  the  shape  they  had  thus 
assumed,  were  then  utilized  as  models  for  the  building  of 
tools   to  be  employed  in  the  manufacture  of  the   motor. 


1 64  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

After  this  was  done  orders  were  once  more  "farmed  out" 
to  concerns  distributed  far  and  wide  over  the  entire  coun- 
try.^ 

Achievements  such  as  this  are  made  possible  by  the  sci- 
entific, technical  and  socio-economic  status  of  modern  society. 
As  contrasted  with  this,  the  conditions  for  discovery  and  in- 
vention in  early  life  are  very  imperfect.  The  early  inventor 
faces  his  task,  the  nature  of  which  he  knows  but  imperfectly, 
in  a  setting  that  may  be  described  as  the  very  reverse  of  that 
pictured  in  the  above  example.  His  knowledge  of  appli- 
ances is  limited,  his  theoretical  understanding  is  nil,  and  the 
process  of  trial  and  error  in  the  course  of  which  he  ulti- 
mately achieves  his  improvement,  is  irregular,  adventitious 
and  not  deliberately  controlled.  Thus,  the  amount  of  rele- 
vant experience  which  in  the  case  of  the  modern  inventor  is 
condensed  into  a  few  weeks  of  arduous  experimentation  in 
his  laboratory,  may,  under  the  conditions  of  primitive  life, 
be  stretched  out  over  centuries  of  effort,  failure,  disappoint- 
ment, or  partial  success  of  hundreds  of  individuals,  until  a 
satisfactory  adjustment  is  ultimately  made  in  the  form  of  a 
definitive  invention. 


*This  history  of  the  "Liberty  Motor"  is  given  on  the  authority  of  my 
friend,  Ralph  A.  Gleason,  an  engineer  and  inventor  to  whom  I  owe  what- 
ever insight  I  possess  into  the  nature  of  the  mental  processes,  often  so  mys- 
terious to  the  layman,  which  result  in  inventions. 


CHAPTER  IX 
ART^ 

Art  is  co-extensive  with  man.  Industrial  art  appears 
whenever  a  particular  industry  is  highly  developed. 

We  have  commented  on  the  skill  displayed  in  the  tech- 
niques of  the  potter  and  the  basket  maker,  the  wood  carver 
and  the  worker  in  stone,  bone  and  horn.  It  has  often  been 
observed  that  many  of  these  objects  of  primitive  industry 
are  made  much  better  than  is  necessary  for  practical  pur- 
poses. In  other  words,  the  technical  skill  involved  becomes 
itself  a  stimulant  for  the  development  of  still  higher  skill, 
and  when  this  is  the  case,  the  object  is  not  merely  well  made, 
but  also  artistically  made,  for  virtuosity  and  playfulness, 
when  held  within  the  bounds  of  more  or  less  rigid  form,  are 
art.  But  technical  skill  and  playing  with  the  elements  of 
technique  are  not  the  only  sources  of  artistic  inspiration  in 
industry.  The  objects  of  industry  present  unrivalled  oppor- 
tunities for  the  application  of  design,  color,  and  carved  dec- 
oration. The  flat,  angular  and  curved  surfaces  of  boxes, 
houses,  boats  and  pots;  the  necks  and  handles  of  certain 
articles;  the  borders  of  garments  and  mats;  the  shafts  of 
tools  and  weapons  and  the  edges  of  all  things,  call  for  art. 
Granted  the  aesthetic  impulse  and  the  stimulus  derived 
from  the  technical  allurements  of  industry,  it  is  inevitable 
that  these  formal  peculiarities  of  industrial  objects  should 
be  seized  upon  for  purposes  of  artistic  embellishment  and 
expression. 


'The  domain  of  art  extends  to  many  aspects  of  early  life.  There  is 
singing  and  dancing  and  the  mimicking  of  animals  in  semi-dramatic  per- 
formances; there  is  poetry  and  literature,  insofar  as  this  name  can  be 
applied  to  unwritten  stories,  myths  and  traditions;  there  is  also  the  realistic 
art  of  the  cave  in  which  the  Bushmen  of  South  Africa  as  well  as  the  men 
of  paleolithic  Europe  were  such  experts.  For  want  of  space  I  shall  not  deal 
with  any  of  these  aspects  of  art.  The  domain  to  which  this  chapter  is 
restricted  refers  to  the  artistic  work  more  or  less  closely  connected  with 
industry. 

x6S 


1 66  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

We  say  "expression"  deliberately,  for  the  primitive  ar- 
tist is  not  by  any  means  as  passive  an  imitator  of  traditional 
style  or  pattern  as  he  or  she  is  often  represented  to  be. 
In  those  areas  where  careful  studies  of  primitive  art  have 
been  made,  as  for  example,  in  North  America,  ethnologists 
constantly  observe  the  great  and  typical  variability  of  objects 
of  art.     Not  that  the  tribal  style  is  ever  disregarded.    The 
opposite  is,  in  fact,  invariably  the  case:     the  woman  em- 
broiderer of  the  Plains,  the  man  carver  of  the  Northwest 
Coast,  the  woman  potter  of  the  Southwest  and  embroiderer 
of  the  Iroquois  and  Algonquin,  work  along  well  established 
lines  of  technique  and  design  pattern.     But  within  these 
fixed   limits    there   is   infinite   variation,    often   minute,    at 
other  times  radical,  which  cannot  be  explained  by  mere  in- 
accuracy of  reproduction   due  to   the   absence   of   definite 
measurement,  but  can  only  be  accounted  for  by  the  indi- 
vidual technical  aptitude  of  the  artist,  the  peculiarity  of  his 
idiosyncrasy  or  the   direction   of  his  playfulness.      In  the 
Plains,  for  example,  the  minute  units  of  the  embroidery  de- 
signs are  combined  into  a  great  variety  of  more  complicated 
patterns.     New  patterns  of  this  kind  are  constantly  origin- 
ated by  the  women  who,  in  this  case,  dream  the  new  designs. 
Of  course,  even  these  dreamed  designs^  always  follow  cer- 
tain tribal  principles  of  decoration  and  arrangement  of  de- 
sign units.     But  there  Is  room  enough  left  for  an  unceasing 
variety  of  detail. 

In  the  absence  of  psychological  material  due  to  the  decay 
of  most  primitive  art  or  to  our  inability  to  communicate 
freely  with  the  artist,  much  of  the  psychological  nature  of 
primitive  artcraft  must  be  reconstructed  by  means  of  specu- 


'The  experience  of  dreamed  designs  is  not  unfamiliar  to  modern  artists 
and  designers.  This  phenomenon  seems  especially  common  in  those  cases 
where  the  new  design  or  artistic  idea  does  not  represent  a  radical  departure 
or  a  highly  individual  expression,  but  consists  in  a  new  combination  of  fixed 
elements.  The  psychology  of  dream  designs  no  doubt  resolves  itself  into  the 
dependence  of  the  dream  for  its  contents  on  the  waking  experience,  and 
into  the  relative  freedom  of  the  dream  process  consequent  upon  the  lifting 
of  the  controlling  intervention  of  the  conscious  mind. 


ART  167 

lative  analysis;  but  not  infrequently  the  suggestiveness  of 
the  material  helps  one  to  overcome  this  handicap.  A  mere 
inspection,  for  example,  of  a  series  of  designs  on  Maori 
rafter  patterns  will  convince  one  beyond  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt  that  the  major  elements  of  a  whole  series  of  these 
designs  consist  of  combinations  and  re-combinations  of  a 
simple  curvilinear  element,  not  unlike  a  large  comma, 
which  appears  in  a  variety  of  positions.  Clearly  the  artist 
was  deliberately  experimenting  and  playing  with  the  effects 
produced  by  combining  and  re-combining  this  unit  design 
in  different  position. 

Industrial  art,  which  in  part  at  least  has  grown  out  of 
materials  and  processes,  never  wholly  loses  its  dependence 
upon  these  technical  elements.  Not  that  there  are  definite 
forms  of  objects  and  decoration  associated  with  special  ma- 
terials. No,  there  is  no  absolute  dependence.  But  the  ma- 
terial does  set  certain  limits  to  the  form  of  the  object  and 
the  character  of  the  art.  Pots  and  vessels  made  of  stone 
do  not  lend  themselves  to  that  elaboration  of  form  in 
curves,  with  the  fine  nuances  that  can  be  achieved  in  pots 
made  of  clay,  where  the  very  plasticity  of  the  material,  com- 
bined with  its  resistance,  invite  further  elaboration.  The 
larger  objects  made  of  stone,  such  as  idols,  or  the  archi- 
tectural structures  of  Mexico  or  Peru,  are  markedly  affected 
by  the  character  of  the  material.  Not  only  do  the  decora- 
tive elements  rest  against  a  ponderous  background,  but  they 
themselves  tend  to  partake  of  that  ponderousness.  Wood, 
again,  allows  of  much  greater  delicacy  of  technique,  includ- 
ing open  work  or  filigree.  Not  that  all  wood  work  has  this 
character.  The  skillful  and  highly  finished  art  of  the  North- 
west Coast,  for  example,  lacks  just  this  element  of  light- 
ness and  minute  elaboration  of  detail.  The  delicate  filigree 
work  of  Melanesia  or  of  the  Kamerun,  could  not  be  accom- 
plished except  in  wood,  at  least  not  in  an  early  civilization.^ 


'Among  historic  architectures,  Moslem  and  Gothic  have,  of  course, 
demonstrated  what  marvels  of  delicacy  and  technical  minutiae  can  be 
achieved  in  spite  of  the  material. 


1 68  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

What  is  true  of  the  material  applies  more  markedly  to 
the  technique.  The  very  elements  of  a  technique  often  con- 
stitute at  least  a  basis  for  decoration.  The  grooves  left  by 
the  thumb-nails  of  the  pot  maker  develop  into  a  fixed  dec- 
orative pattern.  The  rhythm,  the  angularity  and  the  diag- 
onal character  of  most  basketry  technique  stamp  these  char- 
acteristics upon  the  design.  In  fact,  these  elements  of  them- 
selves create  designs  which  can  be  brought  out,  as  is  so  often 
done,  by  the  utilization  of  strands  of  different  color. 

It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  the  material  and 
the  technique  are  not  the  sole  factors  determining  the  design 
elements.  More  often  than  not,  these  media  are  utilized 
for  the  representation  of  a  design,  realistic  or  geometrical  in 
nature,  which  pre-exists  in  the  mind  of  the  artist.  In  all 
such  cases,  the  material,  the  technique  or  the  form  of  the 
object  are  merely  operative  in  affecting  in  varying  degrees 
the  nature  of  the  design  of  which  they  are  made  the  carriers. 
The  basketry  technique  almost  invariably  lends  a  character 
of  angularity  to  any  design  applied  to  it.  The  nature  and 
distribution  of  curves  on  a  pot  also  react  upon  the  design, 
but  less  conspicuously  so ;  while  in  stone,  bone  or  wood  work, 
the  material,  the  technical  process  and  the  form  of  the  ob- 
ject also  leave  a  trace  on  the  pattern  applied.  How  varying 
the  results  can  be  in  this  interaction  of  design  and  object 
is  well  illustrated  by  a  comparison  between  the  art  of  the 
Northwest  Coast  and  that  of  the  Maori.  In  both  cases 
wood  is  the  predominant  medium  and  the  decorated  objects 
display  a  great  variety  of  forms.  The  Indian  represents 
in  his  designs  and  carvings,  various  animals  and  birds  in 
a  semi-realistic  or  highly  conventionalized  form.  A  con- 
siderable set  of  features  utilized  in  this  process  are  firmly 
fixed  and  may  serve  as  differentia  of  the  art,  as  for  ex- 
ample, the  application  of  heavy  lines  encasing  parts  of 
the  design  or  emphasizing  the  features  of  it,  the  eccentricity 
of  the  curves  in  the  so-called  eye  ornament,  and  the  like. 
But  in  his  attempt  to  adjust  the  design  to  the  object,  the 
artist  is  here  led  to  break  up  the  representation  into  a  large 


k 


ART  169 

number  of  parts  which  are  distributed  over  the  decorative 
surface,  preserving  only  a  formal  unity  of  spatial  arrange- 
ment. Certain  elements  of  the  design  being,  as  was  shown 
before,  symptomatic  of  certain  animals  or  birds,  are  always 
brought  out,  and  if  the  space  allowed  is  slight  or  of  pecu- 
liar shape,  these  design  elements  will  be  distorted  in  a  variety 
of  ways.  The  Maori,  on  the  other  hand,  while  also  adjust- 
ing the  design  to  the  character  of  the  surface  and  to  its 
shape,  display  a  marked  independence  of  these  features. 
The  decoration  on  many  of  their  objects  makes  the  impres- 
sion that  the  artist  was  unwilling  to  permit  the  limitations  of 
the  decorated  surface  to  affect  the  nature  of  the  design,  ex- 
cept to  a  slight  degree ;  as  a  result  of  this,  the  design  often 
seems  to  extend  beyond  the  physical  limits  of  the  object,  or 
to  put  it  differently,  only  part  of  the  design  appears  on  the 
object.  One  consequence  of  this  attitude  is  the  disregard 
of  proportions  in  the  design  in  relation  to  the  object.  What 
can  be  represented  is  represented,  the  rest  is  cut  off  by  the 
physical  edge  of  the  object. 

Similar  phenomena  of  technical  influence  appear  when 
a  design  is  transferred  from  one  technique  to  another.^ 

One  aspect  of  primitive  decorative  art  that  has  aroused 
a  great  deal  of  discussion  is  the  fact  that  it  may  be  realistic 
and  geometric,  or  conventionalized.  Quite  apart  from  the 
rare  instances  of  realistic  representations  of  extraordinary 


'In  modern  days  these  phenomena  can  be  conveniently  studied  in  the 
domain  of  fashion.  On  the  one  hand,  there  is  the  nature  of  the  material. 
Thus  stiff  materials,  such  as  heavy  silk  or  brocade,  call  for  straight  or 
angular  lines,  soft  and  thick  materials,  like  velvet  and  plush,  are  utilized 
for  heavy  curves  and  the  effects  called  "fullness"  in  the  dressmakers'  jargon. 
On  the  other  hand,  soft,  thin  and  delicate  materials,  like  muslin  or  crepe, 
are  utilized  for  light  and  airy  features.  Again,  the  change  of  material 
works  its  usual  effects.  There  may  be  a  fashion  for  realistic  decorations  on 
hats.  Animals  or  birds,  fruit,  leaves  or  vegetables  appear  on  the  lower  and 
upper  surfaces  of  hats  with  striking  realism,  striking  enough  to  cause  occa- 
sional uneasiness.  In  a  subsequent  wave  of  fashion,  velvet  or  foullard  or 
leather  are  substituted  as  a  medium  of  representation  of  these  elements  of 
the  animal  and  plant  kingdoms.  The  realism  promptly  disappears,  giving 
place  to  more  conventional,  angular  or  curvilinear  shapes,  which  bear  but 
remote  resemblance  to  their  proximate  originals. 

The  technical  origin  of  the  design  can  often  be  detected  in  spite  of  the 
medium,  as  when  a  carpet  design  appears  on  a  linoleum  rug,  or  stone  or 
marble  carvings  on  a  wall-paper  pattern. 


I70  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

excellence,  the  design  patterns  on  baskets,  pots,  rugs,  walls 
of  houses,  sides  of  canoes  and  other  objects,  often  suggest 
with  varying  degrees  of  realism,  the  forms  of  mammals, 
birds,  snakes,  crocodiles,  occasionally  plants,  and  less  fre- 
quently, objects  of  human  manufacture.  On  the  other  hand, 
numerous  paintings,  etchings  and  carvings  are  wholly  de- 
void of  any  realistic  suggestion,  but  must  be  described  as 
purely  geometrical,  consisting  of  lines,  straight  or  curved, 
and  angular  or  curvilinear  figures.  Usually  either  the  angu- 
lar and  straight-lined  patterns  or  the  curvilinear  ones  pre- 
dominate, but  the  two  tendencies  may  also  appear  in  com- 
bination. In  connection  with  the  geometrical  designs,  it  has 
often  been  noted  that  they  are  interpreted  by  their  makers 
as  representations  of  animals,  birds  or  objects,  the  forms 
of  which,  however,  they  may  resemble  but  remotely  or  not 
at  all.  In  view  of  these  facts  and  under  the  general  sug- 
gestion of  the  evolutionary  conception,  there  arose  a  theory 
of  artistic  development,  in  which  the  attempt  was  made  to 
combine  into  a  historical  and  logical  sequence,  these  dis- 
crepant features  of  primitive  art. 

The  theory,  for  example,  which  lies  at  the  root  of  A.  C. 
Haddon's  "Evolution  of  Art,"  is  this:  the  earliest  form  of 
art  was  realistic,  but  as  generation  succeeded  generation, 
the  influence  of  technique  and  other  causes  produced  a  ten- 
dency in  the  direction  of  more  geometrical  forms,  so  that  in 
the  course  of  time  the  designs  altogether  lost  their  one- 
time realistic  outlines  and  became  wholly  geometrical.  The 
symbolic  meanings  of  geometrical  designs,  then,  represent 
survivals  in  interpretation  of  the  former  realistic  charac- 
ter of  these  designs.  As  a  proof  of  this  theory,  such  col- 
lections of  data  were  presented  as  that  adduced  by  Haddon, 
which  comprises  a  considerable  number  of  specimens  of 
spear  and  arrow  shafts  with  crocodile  carvings.  The  carv- 
ings on  some  are  unmistakably  realistic,  on  others,  one  or 
more  parts  of  the  animal  appear  in  conventionalized  geo- 
metrical form,  while  on  still  others  a  purely  geometrical 
carving  is  found  which  is  merely  classed  as  a  crocodile  by  the 


ART  171 

natives,  while  in  some  instances  even  this  classification  is 
omitted.  Haddon  conceived  of  this  set  of  decorated  objects 
as  a  chronological  scale,  his  idea  being  that  the  realistic 
carvings  were  the  original  ones  and  that  from  this  stage 
there  was  a  steady  progress  through  steps  of  increasing  con- 
ventionalization to  those  carvings  in  which  no  trace  of 
realism  was  left. 

This  attractive  theory,  while  holding  the  field  for  a  cer- 
tain time,  could  not  withstand  the  adverse  criticism  born  of 
a  more  penetrating  study  of  the  material.  It  was  pointed 
out  that  the  very  arrangement  of  a  series  such  as  Haddon's 
in  a  chronological  sequence,  was  wholly  arbitrary,  no  proof 
being  forthcoming  that  the  realistic  specimens  were  really 
the  earlier  ones,  nor  that  the  specimens  with  varying  de- 
grees of  conventionalization  actually  represented  histori- 
cally successive  stages. 

Other  evidence  indicated  that  the  geometrical  designs 
were  in  some  instances  later  than  the  realistic  meanings  at- 
tached to  them.  The  patterns  in  bead  embroidery  which 
abound  among  the  Plains  Indians,  for  example,  are  highly 
characteristic  of  this  area  and  appear  with  only  minor  vari- 
ations throughout  a  large  number  of  tribes.  The  symbolic 
meanings  of  these  patterns,  on  the  other  hand,  vary  greatly 
from  locality  to  locality.  Many  of  these  meanings  are 
realistic.  Now  it  would  be  unreasonable  to  assume  that 
identical  or  highly  similar  geometrical  patterns  developed 
among  the  different  tribes  from  pre-existing  and  different 
realistic  originals.  The  alternative  hypothesis  must  there- 
fore be  accepted,  namely,  that  the  geometrical  patterns  are 
the  older  element  and  that  discrepant  realistic  meanings 
were  later  read  into  them  by  the  different  tribes. 

To  this  argument  it  was  added  that  purely  technical  con- 
ditions, such  as  those  present  in  basketry  work,  would  nat- 
urally lead  to  the  development  of  geometrical  patterns. 
The  appeal,  moreover,  of  purely  geometrical  combinations, 
ef  straight  or  curved  lines,  of  angular  or  rounded  figures, 
is  universal,  in  primitive  as  well  as  modern  times.     This 


172  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

appeal  must  answer  to  a  common-human  aesthetic  demand, 
and  if  this  is  so,  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  decorated 
designs  of  a  purely  geometrical  pattern  have  numerous  times 
originated  independently  of  any  realistic  antecedents.^ 

In  brief,  the  situation  must  be  conceived  somewhat  as 
follows :  realistic  and  geometrical  designs,  have  often  origi- 
nated independently  and  from  different  sources  and  tech- 
nical conditions.  The  primary  common  cause  of  both  types 
of  decoration  is  the  aesthetic  appeal  of  realistic  as  well  as 
geometrical  forms  in  nature  and  the  pleasure  derived  from 
realistic  reproductions  and  geometric  designs.  The  very 
same  psychological  cause,  namely,  the  aesthetic  value  of  the 
realistic  as  well  as  of  the  geometrical,  is  responsible  for  the 
further  transformations.  Realistic  representations  suggest 
geometrical  relations  and  thus  may  become  either  partly  or 
wholly  conventionalized,  with  or  without  sufficient  technical 
determinants.  Geometrical  designs,  on  the  other  hand,  tend 
either  to  suggest  or  to  become  symbolically  associated  with 
realistic  meanings,  and  as  a  result,  realistic  excrescences  may 
come  to  be  attached  to  such  geometrical  patterns,  leading 
to  partly  geometrical,  partly  realistic  designs.  The  process, 
finally,  assumed  by  the  evolutionary  theory,  namely,  the 
survival  of  an  originally  realistic  representation  in  the  form 
of  a  symbolic  meaning  attached  to  a  geometrical  transforma- 

*An  excellent  theoretical  argument  bearing  on  this  point  and  developed 
on  the  basis  of  an  intensive  study  of  concrete  and  strictly  localized  material 
will  be  found  in  Boas'  "The  Decorative  Designs  of  Alaskan  Needlecases," 
Proceedings,  U.  S.  National  Museum,  1908. 

To  transfer  to  modern  conditions  the  theoretical  point  here  raised  in  con- 
nection with  early  art,  we  may  once  more  refer  to  what  occurs  in  the  domain 
of  fashion:  when  a  garment  of  a  new  type  establishes  itself  as  an  accepted 
style,  the  resulting  fashion  never  consists  in  a  slavish  reproduction  of  this 
one  original  pattern.  What  takes  place  is  the  appearance  of  a  kaleido- 
scopic variety  of  individualized  garments,  all  differing  in  detail  but  similar 
in  certain  points  prescribed  by  the  style.  Out  of  these  differences  or  through 
an  extraneous  suggestion,  there  soon  arises  the  outline  of  a  new  style  which, 
in  its  turn  asserts  itself,  leading  to  a  similar  differentiation.  Now,  the 
large  variety  of  individualized  garments  which  fall  between  one  style  and 
the  next  could  readily  be  conceived  as  actually  intervening  stages,  con- 
stituting a  chronological  series  of  steps.  But  this  interpretation  would  evi- 
dently be  erroneous,  for  the  variations  in  question  are  practically  syn- 
chronous and  must  be  regarded  as  expressions  of  individual  taste  and 
creative  ingenuity,  displaying  themselves  within  the  limits  of  an  accepted 
style. 


ART  173 

tion  of  the  realistic  design,  also  represents  a  plausible  devel- 
opment, which  must  claim  its  place  in  the  theoretical  inter- 
pretation of  decorative  design,  if  only  due  allowance  is  made 
for  the  other  processes  here  indicated. 

Another  common  tendency  in  the  study  of  primitive  art 
is  to  compare  it  to  that  of  our  children.  The  old  theory  of 
the  recapitulation  of  racial  experience  in  the  life  of  the 
individual  is  brought  to  bear  to  justify  this  idea.  What  is 
particularly  emphasized  is  the  crudeness  and  apparent  help- 
lessness of  the  realistic  representations  in  children's  art  and 
in  early  art. 

At  this  stage  of  our  inquiry  a  conception  such  as  the  above 
seems  so  crude  as  scarcely  to  require  refutation.  It  is  true 
enough  that  technical  difficulties  involved  in  the  handling 
of  an  unaccustomed  tool  or  technique  may  introduce  an  ele- 
ment of  similarity  between  the  art  of  a  learning  child  and 
the  most  primitive  attempts  at  drawing  or  carving.  But 
even  at  this  stage  the  relevancy  of  the  terms  of  comparison 
is  more  than  questionable.  What  is  usually  represented  as 
a  child's  art  is  nothing  but  an  attempt  on  its  part  to  follow 
an  outline  or  figure  drawn  by  an  unskilled  adult.  In  this 
process,  the  element  of  aesthetic  appeal  may  play  no  part  at 
all.  On  the  other  hand,  the  earliest  attempts  of  primitive 
man  in  this  direction  are  of  course  unknown  to  us.  Again, 
when  the  investigator  tries  to  test  the  capacity  of  a  native 
by  presenting  to  him  an  idea  or  an  object,  animate  or  inani- 
mate, he  sets  before  him  an  artificial  problem  which  does 
not  belong  to  the  art  of  the  native.  But  even  under  these 
conditions,  while  there  is  the  crudeness  referable  to  the 
causes  mentioned  above,  there  is  evidence  in  the  simplest 
designs  of  something  else  which  changes  the  nature  of  the 
entire  process.  This  something  else  is  the  existence  among 
all  tribes  of  a  style  or  a  number  of  styles  of  art.  When  a 
problem  of  drawing  is  presented  to  a  native,  he  does  not 
face  it  with  a  "free"  psychology,  but  in  the  light  of  the  styl- 
istic convention  of  his  tribe.  Koch-Griinberg's  collection  of 
drawings  by  the  natives  of  Brazil  and  Thurnwald's  draw- 


174  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

ings  from  the  Bismarck  and  Solomon  Islands,  reveal  with 
great  clearness  the  presence  of  this  stylistic  factor  in  even 
the  crudest  designs. 

This  applies  also  to  the  realistic  drawings  and  carvings, 
not  only  to  the  geometrical  ones.  Thus  the  beautiful  Bush- 
men paintings  and  etchings  on  the  walls  of  caves  do  not 
merely  represent  an  attempt  to  portray  reality,  but  the  artist 
works  within  the  limits  of  certain  traditional  conventions, 
which  make  It  possible,  for  example,  to  diagnose  this  art  as 
different  from  the  cave  drawings  of  paleolithic  Europe,  not- 
withstanding the  many  striking  resemblances  between  the 
two  arts.  Again,  the  style  of  representation  of  the  human 
figure  in  Bushmen  art  is  quite  different  from  that  of  animals. 
It  can  be  Identified  at  a  glance  by  the  treatment  of  the  trunk 
as  a  triangle  standing  on  Its  apex,  and  the  equally  distinctive 
representation  of  hips  and  calves  in  the  form  of  bulging 
curves.^ 

To  say  that  an  art  object  has  a  style  is  one  thing,  to  de- 
fine a  style  is  another.  The  task  is  not  an  easy  one  and  can- 
not be  attempted  here.  Suflice  it  to  say  that  the  art  products 
of  every  tribe,  whether  they  lie  in  the  domain  of  drawing 
or  those  of  carving,  painting,  embroidery  or  weaving,  are 
dominated  by  certain  traditional  ways  of  representation  of 
things  and  of  technical  execution.  When  the  artist  faces  his 
task,  he  may  aim  solely  at  the  reproduction  of  the  accepted 
pattern,  which,  according  to  his  aptitude,  he  executes  with 
greater  or  less  excellence  or  accuracy.     In  other  Instances, 


'In  addition  to  all  this  it  must  be  noted  that  realistic  art  stands  on  a 
level  of  its  own.  This  has  not  been  sufficiently  recognized  in  the  study  of 
primitive  art  work.  Everything  else  apart,  the  realistic  representation  of 
things  of  the  outside  world  requires  certain  qualities  of  perception  and 
others  of  execution  which  are  nowhere  represented  among  more  than  a 
certain  fraction  of  the  population.  It  is  therefore  not  surprising  to  find 
that  among  the  peoples  of  the  Northwest  Coast,  for  example,  with  their 
highly  distinctive  style  of  decorative  painting  and  carving,  realistic,  in 
fact,  portrait-like  representations  of  faces  also  occur,  in  which  the  pre- 
vailing style  is  barely  perceptible,  and  the  making  of  which  must  be  credited 
to  some  specially  talented  individuals  who  set  themselves  the  task  of  a 
realistic  representation  and  solved  it  with  great  skill.  Of  course,  the 
technical  agility,  acquired  by  these  natives  in  response  to  the  exacting 
demands  of  their  wood  industry,  must  be  regarded  as  a  helpful  background 
for  the  possibility  of  such  achievements  of  artistic  realism. 


I 


ART  175 

more  freedom  is  allowed  him,  as  is,  for  example,  the  case  in 
the  Plains  where  new  combinations  of  design  units  are 
originated  by  the  woman  embroiderer.  But  even  in  cases 
such  as  this,  the  limits  of  variation  prescribed  by  conven- 
tion greatly  restrict  the  play  of  individual  fancy.  In  view 
of  the  deficient  subjectivism  of  primitive  art,  great  trans- 
formations in  style  through  the  initiative  of  individuals  have 
probably  occurred  but  seldom,  if  at  all. 

But  the  most  decisive  argument  against  all  attempts  to 
compare  primitive  art  with  the  so-called  art  of  our  children, 
is  the  not  uncommon  excellence  of  primitive  craftsmanship, 
especially  in  the  domain  of  geometrical  art.  The  decorative 
carvings  of  the  Maori  and  the  Haida,  the  carved  clubs  of 
the  Marquesas  and  the  Tonga  Islanders,  the  painted  pots 
of  the  Pueblo  Indians  and  those  of  the  Chiriqui,  the  woven 
blankets  of  the  Chilkat  and  the  Navajo,  and  the  spun  ma- 
terials of  Peru,  the  bone  carvings  of  the  Eskimo  and  those 
of  the  Sudan,  the  bronze  castings,  finally,  of  Northwest 
Africa — all  of  these  and  many  other  artistic  products  of  the 
primitive  world  cannot  be  passed  over  slightingly  as  mere 
stepping-stones  to  something  later,  worthy  of  the  term  art. 
These  things  are  art,  conceived  and  carried  out  in  line  with 
general  aesthetic  principles,  with  a  command  of  great  tech- 
nical skill  and  with  sufficient  individual  variation  to  leave 
the  stamp  of  artistic  creativeness. 

The  few  specimens  of  primitive  art  craft  gathered  on  the 
plates  are  selected  with  the  view  of  illustrating  some  of  the 
fine  things  that  early  man  has  achieved  in  the  line  of  art. 
An  examination  of  the  illustrations  will  also  bring  home 
the  fact  that  apart  from  the  specific  problems  which  primi- 
tive art  and  the  art  of  each  tribe  or  group  of  tribes  present, 
there  are  also  common  problems  of  aesthetics  which  unite 
modern  and  primitive  art  in  the  realm  of  the  common- 
human.  A  few  remarks  about  some  of  the  illustrations  will 
make  this  clear. 

In  the  beaded  Bagobo  bag  (plate  I,  fig.  35)  the  central 
section  is  flanked  by  broad  horizontal  strips,  one  above  the 


176  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

other  below  the  central  part.  Each  one  of  these  is  again 
subdivided  into  two  symmetrical  strips  on  the  two  sides  of 
a  darker  central  line  with  a  light  meandering  design  run- 
ning through  it.  If  the  bag  is  placed  so  that  it  stands  on 
its  left  side  (from  the  point  of  view  of  the  reader),  it  will 
be  seen  that  the  two  complicated  strips  to  the  left  and  the 
right  of  this  central  line  are  opposite  and  symmetrical  with 
reference  to  it,  and  that  the  two  outward  strips  consisting  of 
elongated  sections  with  white  dots  separated  by  three  dirk 
and  three  light  triangle-like  shapes  also  balance  each  other 
in  the  vertical  direction,  the  triangles  in  the  strip  nearest 
to  the  central  section  of  the  bag  being  open  towards  the  top, 
those  of  the  strip  furthest  from  the  central  section  being 
open  toward  the  bottom.  The  entire  broad  strip  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  bag  is  symmetrical  with  the  one  above  the  cen- 
tral section  and,  once  more,  the  strips  with  the  triangular 
designs  balance  and  complement  each  other.  In  the  upper 
broad  section,  the  triangles  nearest  to  the  center  piece  open 
toward  the  left,  those  furthest  from  it  open  toward  the 
right.  In  the  strip  below  the  central  piece,  the  triangles 
nearest  to  it  open  toward  the  right,  those  furthest  from  it, 
toward  the  left.  It  is  only  necessary  to  eliminate  these 
balancing  elements  and  substitute  complete  symmetry  in- 
stead, to  realize  how  much  this  feature  adds  to  the  attrac- 
tiveness of  the  design. 

In  the  embroidered  shirt,  on  the  same  plate  (fig.  36),  a 
veritable  jewel  of  delicate  workmanship,  the  two  sleeves, 
while  apparently  symmetrical  and  identical,  differ  in  the  min- 
utiae of  almost  each  one  of  the  vertical  embroidered  strips 
of  which  they  are  composed.  Both  the  similarities  and  the 
differences  involved  must,  of  course,  be  deliberate  on  the 
part  of  the  artist,  and  those  who  are  familiar  with  the 
effect  of  the  same  principle  in  Gothic  art  will  welcome  its 
vindication  in  this  embroidered  shirt  of  the  Bagobo. 

In  the  Chilkat  blanket  (plate  II,  fig.  37)  attention  may 
be  drawn  to  a  number  of  interesting  points.  The  long  flat 
curves  of  the  general  outline  are  remarkably  consistent, 


¥ 


ART  177 

the  five  exceedingly  flat  curves  of  the  upper  rim  being  par- 
ticularly notable.  Then  again,  there  is  the  separation  of 
the  white  broad  stripe  encasing  the  central  section  from 
the  outside  black  frame  by  a  narrow  white  stripe  between 
two  black  ones,  the  inside  one  being  narrow,  while  the 
outside  one  is  in  this  case  formed  by  the  edge  of  the  broad 
black  outward  frame.  The  central  section  is  similarly  en- 
cased in  a  white  stripe  flanked  by  two  black  ones,  both  being 
narrow,  except  where  the  white  stripe  borders  on  a  black 
section  of  the  central  design,  in  which  case  the  edge  of  this 
takes  the  place  of  the  narrow  black  stripe.  It  will  be  noted 
that  many  of  the  separate  sections  of  the  central  design  are 
similarly  encased.  Another  feature  are  the  broad  black 
stripes  which  constitute  both  the  background  and  the  frame 
of  the  separate  sections  of  the  central  design.  The  splendid 
contrasting  of  the  dark  and  light  sections  thus  produced  is 
best  seen  if  one  looks  at  the  design  with  half-shut  eyes. 
There  is  also  the  pleasing  contrast  between  the  upper  and 
lower  halves  of  the  central  design,  in  the  upper  the  black 
predominating,  in  the  lower,  the  white. 

Then  come  the  two  highly  interesting  memorial  columns 
(plate  II,  figs.  38  and  39).  One  curious  feature  must  be 
noted  first — it  is  not  a  purely  aesthetic  one.  The  two  col- 
umns, like  most  of  the  other  memorial  columns  of  the 
Haida,  would  be  identified  by  a  white  man  as  memorial  col- 
umns, on  account  of  the  fact  that  the  lower  sections  are 
decorated,  that  these  are  topped  by  an  undecorated  section 
of  column,  and  are  finished  off  by  a  carved  representation 
on  the  top.  This  presence  of  an  undecorated  section — a 
very  rare  feature  in  Northwest  Coast  art — contrasts  espe- 
cially with  what  one  observes  on  the  totem  poles.  It  is  thus 
curious  that  this  particular  form  of  column  is  used  for 
memorial  purposes  among  ourselves  as  well  as  among  the 
Haida. 

In  the  further  elaboration  of  the  decorative  elements  of 
the  columns,  the  most  remarkable  point  is  this :  while  both 
columns  become  narrower  toward  the  top — in  fig.  38  much 


178  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

less  so  than  in  fig.  39 — the  elements  of  the  carved  decora- 
tions in  fig.  38  have  a  general  vertical  trend,  while  those  of 
fig.  39  have  a  horizontal  one.  In  fig.  38  this  is  emphatically 
brought  out  by  the  position  of  the  claws  of  the  fore-paws  of 
the  animal  represented  at  the  bottom  of  the  column,  the  di- 
rection of  its  beak,  and  the  deep  downward-pointing  curve  of 
the  broad  black,  eyebrow-like  stripes  over  the  eyes.  Again, 
in  the  bird  represented  on  the  top  of  the  column,  the  beak 
is  pointed  downward  in  a  flat  decisive  curve,  and  the  front 
edges  of  the  wings  are  pointed  straight  downward  even  more 
drastically.  In  fig.  39,  on  the  other  hand,  the  claws  of  the 
front  paws  of  the  animal  holding  the  pole,  are  practically 
horizontal,  this  character  being  clearly  brought  out  by  the 
contrast  in  color.  The  lips  are  equally  horizontal;  here, 
moreover,  this  feature  is  not  contradicted  by  a  downward 
pointing  beak,  as  in  the  case  of  fig.  38,  for  the  nose  in  fig.  39 
has  no  downward  pointing  extension.  The  eyebrow-like 
stripes  above  the  eyes  are  flat  and  the  groove  between  them, 
while  directed  downward,  is  equally  shallow,  thus  preserv- 
ing the  general  horizontal  direction  of  the  eyebrows.  A 
low,  horizontally  oriented  pedestal  connects  the  head  of 
the  animal  with  the  bottom  of  the  undecorated  column  (in 
fig.  38  the  lower  part  of  a  corresponding  pedestal  below  the 
small  decorative  faces  is  vertically  striped).  The  bird, 
finally,  in  fig  39  suggests  the  horizontal  by  the  upper  curva- 
ture of  the  wings,  the  beak  and  the  general  position  of  the 
head.  A  more  carefully  conceived  and  more  delicately  ex- 
pressed stylistic  feature  can  hardly  be  imagined,  and  it  is 
not  a  feature  that  is  in  any  way  specifically  Northwest 
Coast,  but  lies  in  the  common  level  of  artistic  taste  which 
unites  the  craftsman  of  the  Indian  with  our  own  into  a 
common  aesthetic  brotherhood.  On  fig.  38,  finally,  there  are 
the  small  heads  decoratively  repeated  above  the  head  of 
the  animal.  Little  though  the  diminutive  monsters  resemble 
cupids,  their  utilization  here  reminds  one  of  Raphael's  well 
known  affectation  of  using  the  busts  and  heads  of  cupids  for 
decorative  effect,  and  Max  Klinger  has  made  a  similar  use 


PLATE   I 


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h\.  36 

Philippine  Embroidered  Jacket 

Fay-Cooper  Cole,  "The  Wild  Tribes  of  Davao  District,  Mindanao,' 

(Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Publication  170,  Plate  LVI) 


I 


Fig.  35 

Philippine  Beaded  Bag 

Fay-Cooper  Cole,  "The  Wild  Tribes  of  Davao  District,  Mindanao," 

(Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,   Publication  170,  Plate  XXXIX). 


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PLATE    V. 


Maori  Door  Lintel 
(British  Museum,    "Handbook,   etc.",  p.  176). 


Fig-.  45 

Hawaiian  Cloak  of  Red  and  Yellow  Feathers 

(British  Museum,  "Handbook,  etc."  p.  151). 


PLATE    VI 


Fig.  46 

Interior  of  Shallow  Chalice 

G.  G.  MacCurdy,  "A  Study  of  Chiriquian  Antiquities,'* 
(Memoirs  Connecticut  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  Plate  I] 


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PLATE    VIII 


Fig:.  50 

Ground-draw  in  (J 

Spencer  and  Gillen,  "The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  p.  743 


Fig.  51 
Ground-drawing 

Spencer  and  Gillen,  "The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  p.  740 


ART  179 

of  this  feature  on  the  back  of  the  huge  bronze  throne  on 
which  he  has  seated  his  famous  statue  of  Beethoven. 

In  the  carved  wooden  cup  of  the  African  Bushongo  (plate 
III,  fig.  41)  there  are  several  points  of  interest.  The 
cup  is  divided  into  three  sections,  the  stem,  the  central  body 
and  the  neck,  which  in  this  case  forms  a  unit  with  the  top. 
These  parts  are  again  subdivided  horizontally,  the  leg  into 
three  parts,  the  top  into  three  parts,  and  the  central  section 
into  two  parts,  the  deep  inward  directed  curvature  of  the 
body  taking  the  place  of  the  missing  third  section.  Again,  on 
the  lowest  section  of  the  leg,  there  appear  three  oblong  bulg- 
ing verticals.  The  surface  of  the  main  part  of  the  central 
body  is  decorated  by  three  super-imposed  designs  consisting 
of  a  stripe  which  forms  interlocking  diamonds.  This  stripe 
is  itself  subdivided  into  three  parallel  longitudinal  stripes. 
On  the  upper  border  of  the  central  body  appears  a  carved 
decoration  consisting  of  three  stripes,  an  upper  and  a  lower 
one,  which  are  identical  in  technique,  and  a  third  one  be- 
tween, which  is  itself  subdivided  into  three  stripes.  The 
middle  section  of  the  neck  or  top,  on  both  sides  of  a  central 
piece,  is  again  subdivided  into  three  horizontal  stripes  of 
the  same  technique  as  the  two  stripes  of  the  upper  border  of 
the  central  body  of  the  cup,  separated  by  two  sections,  each 
one  of  which  is  divided  into  three  horizontal  stripes. 

There  are  other  features  of  interest  in  the  cup.  The 
whole  object  is  conceived  as  a  spacious,  heavily-set  article 
and  this  characteristic  is  carried  out  in  each  one  of  the  three 
parts  by  means  of  gradual,  gently  curved  outlines,  the  curves 
being  neither  too  deep,  which  would  impart  a  character  of 
lightness,  nor  too  flat,  which  would  make  the  cup  appear 
clumsy.  There  are  also  a  number  of  minor  decorations, 
several  of  which  appear  on  the  side  of  the  cup  shown  in  the 
illustration:  the  two  carvings  on  the  neck,  the  animal  rep- 
resentation in  the  middle  of  the  central  body,  the  two  quad- 
rilaterals on  the  central  section  of  the  leg,  and  the  three 
bulging  verticals  referred  to  before,  on  the  lowest  part  of 
the  leg.     The  imaginary  lines  connecting  these  decorations 


i8o  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

emphasize  by  compensation  the  above  mentioned  features 
of  the  outline  of  the  cup.  The  workmanship  of  this  cup  is, 
of  course,  not  perfect.  It  could  not,  for  example,  be  com- 
pared to  the  best  work  of  the  Haida  or  of  the  Maori.  This, 
however,  does  not  apply  to  the  leg,  which  is  exquisite.  The 
splendid  modelling  of  the  leg  can  be  best  seen  if  the  cup  is 
turned  upside  down. 

The  bronze  casting  (plate  III,  fig.  42)  is,  first  of  all,  re- 
markable as  representing  a  type  of  art  in  which  the  African 
Negro  stands  unique  among  primitive  peoples.  The  face 
is  admirable  both  as  a  face  and  as  a  Negro  face.  There  is, 
moreover,  an  element  of  conventionalization  in  a  not  over- 
conspicuous  emphasis  of  the  outlines  of  the  lips,  the  wings 
of  the  nose  and  the  eye-lids.  The  head  gear  is  notable  for 
the  general  harmonization  of  its  outlines  with  the  contour 
of  the  face.  This  feature  is  best  seen  if  the  head  is  re- 
versed. The  wicker  suggestion  of  the  head  gear  speaks  for 
itself  and  technically  it  is  admirable.  But  perhaps  most  valu- 
able stylistically  is  the  rectilinear  cut  in  the  front  of  the  head 
gear  with  which  the  straight  edge  extending  towards  the 
ear  harmonizes.  The  stylistic  effect  thus  achieved  is 
greatly  emphasized  by  the  vertical  pendants  extending  down- 
ward on  both  sides  of  the  ear,  which  is  itself  assimilated  to 
the  character  of  the  head  gear  and  of  the  pendants  by  means 
of  a  most  admirable  bit  of  stylization.  The  vertical  and 
rectilinear  effect  of  these  stylistic  and  decorative  features 
is  emphasized  by  the  cicatrices  on  the  forehead  of  the  figure.^ 

It  will  have  been  observed  that  in  all  of  these  remarks 
we  were  not  concerned  with  those  features  of  the  carvings 
or  designs  which  are  distinctive  of  the  art  of  the  particular 
tribes.  On  the  contrary,  the  traits  were  noted  which  are 
of  interest  from  the  standpoint  of  general  aesthetics.  The 
results  indicate  what  might  have  been  concluded  a  priori, 
namely,  that  individual  peculiarities  of  tribal  designs  are  a 

'Observations  of  a  similar  nature  could  be  made  on  the  Chiriqui  pot 
design  and  on  the  bark  carving  of  the  decorative  head  dress  from  New 
Ireland.  The  relevant  points  are  fairly  obvious  and  their  analysis  may  be 
left  to  the  student. 


ART  i8i 

matter  of  civilization  and  history  and  must  be  analyzed  in 
that  Hght,  but  that  primitive  art  craft,  when  at  its  best,  re- 
veals the  control  of  intuitively  sensed  aesthetic  principles, 
thus  bridging  the  gap  separating  the  modem  from  the  primi- 
tive in  art,  by  bringing  these  artistic  products  of  pre-history 
to  a  common  level  with  the  art  of  historic  civilization. 

It  remains  to  refer,  however  briefly,  to  the  subject  of 
symbolism.  Symbolism  in  primitive  art  is  so  ubiquitous  and 
its  ramifications  In  early  civilization  are  so  varied,  that  an 
at  all  adequate  discussion  of  this  topic  would  require  a 
treatise  all  by  Itself. 

A  thing  is  a  symbol  insofar  as  it  suggests  something  which 
it  is  not.  In  this  sense  language  and,  indeed,  psychic  life 
in  general  abound  In  symbolic  connections,  things  and  ideas 
constantly  taking  the  place  of  one  another  and  tending  to 
evoke  one  another.  Concrete  objective  things,  even  when 
non-artistic,  lend  themselves  well  for  the  function  of  sym- 
bols ;  if  their  emotional  value  and  aesthetic  appeal  is,  in  addi- 
tion, enhanced  by  aesthetic  transformations,  objective  things 
become  admirably  suitable  for  symbolic  service. 

We  have  referred  to  the  widespread  realistic  significa- 
tion of  geometrical  characters.  Some  geometrical  figures, 
such  as  the  swastika,  are  distributed  over  Immense  geo- 
graphical areas  and  have  in  different  places  become  symbolic- 
ally associated  with  a  great  variety  of  meanings.  The  real- 
istic and  other  symbolism  of  the  geometrical  figures  of 
Plains  embroidery  also  varies  greatly  from  tribe  to  tribe. 
On  the  Northwest  Coast,  again,  the  sympt^omatlc  features 
of  different  animals  and  birds  have  become  symbols  of  the 
entire  creature,  and  may  therefore  readily  take  Its  place. 
Among  the  Iroquois,  geometrical  and  realistic  figures  on 
the  wampum  belts  function  as  symbols  of  various  treaty 
articles  concluded  between  the  Iroquois  and  other  tribes. 
Among  such  tribes  as  the  Plains  Arapaho  or  the  Hopi 
of  the  Puebloes,  colors  have  become  the  carriers  of  symbolic 
significance.  In  Australia,  the  sacred  wooden  or  stone  slabs, 
the  so-called  churinga,  are  decorated  by  crude  rectilinear 


1 82  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

or  curvilinear  patterns.  These  simple  etched  or  painted 
designs  have  complicated  symbolic  connotations.  The  sym- 
bolism, moreover,  varies  not  merely  from  tribe  to  tribe  but 
even  from  clan  to  clan,  each  clan  interpreting  the  designs, 
which  are  throughout  similar  and  identical,  on  the  basis  of 
its  own  totemic  mythology. 

Similar  drawings  are  made  on  the  ground  on  ceremonial 
occasions,  yellow  and  red  ochre  and  bird  down  beins  used  for 
the  purpose.  Thus,  the  ground  drawing  on  plate  VIII  (fig. 
50)  represents  six  mythological  women,  the  concentric  cir- 
cles being  the  women  sitting  with  their  legs  drawn  up,  the 
legs  being  represented  by  the  double  bands  connecting  the 
concentric  circles.  The  other  ground  drawing  (plate  VIII, 
fig.  51)  is  associated  with  the  totemic  ceremony  of  the 
famous  WoUunqua  (the  great  magical  snake)  totem.  This 
drawing  is  of  a  very  considerable  size,  measuring  eighteen 
feet  in  length.  The  long  curved  band  represents  the  snake, 
the  head  being  indicated  by  the  wider  part  near  the  two 
bands  adjoining  the  concentric  circles.  The  latter  them- 
selves represent  the  place  at  which  the  snake  is  sup- 
posed to  have  dived  into  the  ground,  after  the  fashion  of 
Australian  totemic  ancestors.  Of  the  separate  sets  of 
concentric  circles,  the  larger  ones  indicate  "paper  bark" 
trees,  while  the  two  smaller  ones  are  bushes.  In  all  of 
these,  spirit  children  are  supposed  to  have  been  left  behind. 
A  rare  feature  in  this  design  are  the  tracks  of  a  man  who 
is  represented  as  following  the  snake,  being  anxious  for 
him  to  return;  at  the  spot  represented  by  the  concentric 
circles  in  touch  with  the  two  semi-circular  bands,  the  man  is 
supposed  to  have  caught  up  with  the  snake  and  here  he 
struck  him  with  great  force  in  an  attempt  to  make  him  dive 
down.  The  two  footprints  side  by  side,  near  the  head  of 
the  snake,  represent  the  man  standing  there,  while  the  two 
semi-circular  bands  connected  with  the  concentric  circles 
are  his  arms  lifted  up  to  strike  the  snake. 

Primitive  religious  ceremonialism  abounds  in  decorations 
and  other  artistic  objects  which  acquire  symbolic  significance. 


ART  183 

The  religious  connotations  serve  to  promote  the  preserva- 
tion of  such  designs,  as  any  deviation  from  the  accepted  pat- 
terns then  becomes  sacrilegious.  Again,  the  religious  con- 
ceptions associated  with  the  symbols  themselves  become 
more  definitely  fixed  and  perpetualized. 

This  ceremonial  function  of  artistic  objects  as  symbols  of 
religio-mythological  and  social  values  represents  perhaps 
the  most  significant  cultural  aspect  of  primitive  art.  The 
attractiveness  and  suggestiveness  of  these  symbols,  their 
simultaneous  presentation  to  a  large  number  of  devotees, 
the  ease  with  which  multifarious  associations  are  absorbed 
by  these  objects,  only  to  be  reawakened  and  refreshed  in  the 
minds  of  the  beholder,  transform  the  symbolic  art  object 
into  a  veritable  perpetuator  of  a  large  part  of  the  culture  of 
a  tribe,  that  part  of  the  culture,  moreover,  which  is  emo- 
tionally most  valuable  as  well  as  most  clearly  representative 
of  the  collective  ideas  of  the  group.^ 

'Cf.  p.  4X5. 


CHAPTER  X 

RELIGION  AND  MAGIC 

E.  B.  Tylor's  classical  discussion  of  animism^  and  J.  G. 
Frazer's  detailed  description  of  magical  belief  and  practice^ 
have  familiarized  the  general  reader  with  these  interesting 
aspects  of  early  civilization.  Rather  than  tread  once  more 
a  path  so  often  trodden,  I  propose  to  discuss  the  problems 
of  early  magic  and  religion  according  to  a  somewhat  differ- 
ent plan.  In  the  following  section  on  the  basic  factors  of 
religion,  the  guardian  spirit  beliefs  of  the  American  Indian 
will  be  analyzed  and  this  will  be  followed  by  a  section  on 
modern  magic  and  another  on  mana,  or  impersonal  super- 
natural power.  The  succeeding  section  on  anthropo- 
morphization  and  the  higher  gods  will  deal  with  the  super- 
naturalism  of  the  Chukchee,  the  gods  of  the  Bella  Coola 
and  the  beliefs  in  the  so-called  All  Father.  The  last  sec- 
tion, finally,  entitled  "The  Individual  in  Religion,"  will 
treat  of  medicine-men  among  the  Chukchee  and  others, 
and  of  the  Ghost  Dance  Religions  of  the  American  Indian. 
In  the  final  pages  of  this  discussion  of  religion  I  shall  then 
attempt  to  present  a  general  picture  of  early  supernaturallsm 
as  a  world  view, 

The  Basic  Factors  of  Religion 

The   Guardian   Spirit   in  American   Indian   Religion. 

Of  all  religious  phenomena  in  primitive  North  America, 
the  most  general  as  well  as  the  most  variegated  are  the 
beliefs  and  practices  connected  with  the  cult  of  the  guardian 
spirit.  In  their  essence  these  cults,  which  are  common  to 
practically  all  Indian  tribes,  are  based  on  a  faith  in  super- 
natural power,  often  of  an  impersonal  sort. 


*In  his  "Primitive  Culture." 

*"The  Golden  Bough,"  Vols.  I  and  II,  "The  Magic  Art." 

184 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  185 

When  a  boy  approaches  maturity,  when  his  voice  begins 
to  change — as  some  Indians  put  it — he  repairs  to  the  woods, 
where  he  builds  for  himself  a  crude  hut  or  tent.  Hence- 
forth he  lives  in  isolation,  takes  frequent  purgatives  and 
eats  very  sparingly.  His  mind  is  bent  on  the  supernatural 
experience  he  is  about  to  face.  When  he  has  reached  a 
high  state  of  purity,  both  physically  and  spiritually  ("so 
that  the  spirits  can  look  through  him,"  says  the  Indian), 
the  desire  of  his  soul  is  realized:  the  guardian  spirit  appears 
to  him  in  a  dream  or  vision.  This  supernatural  personage 
may  be  a  spirit  animal,  bird  or  human,  or  it  may  be  one 
of  those  monster  creatures  so  common  in  Indian  mytholo- 
gies. The  guardian  spirit  bestows  upon  the  novitiate  one 
or  more  supernatural  gifts  and,  having  given  him  guidance 
as  to  the  sort  of  life  he  should  lead,  disappears.  Hence- 
forth the  young  man  stands  in  an  intimate  personal  rela- 
tion to  that  spirit,  appeals  to  it  for  protection  and  expects 
it  to  warn  him  of  impending  dangers.  If  the  protector  is 
an  animal  or  bird,  the  youth  may  have  to  abstain  from 
eating  or  killing  representatives  of  that  species ;  this  taboo, 
however,  is  not  characteristic  of  all  Indian  tribes.* 

This  generalized  representation  of  the  guardian  spirit 
cult  does  but  slight  justice  to  the  importance  of  this  com- 
plex of  beliefs  and  practices  among  North  American  In- 
dians. It  may  be  of  interest,  therefore,  to  dwell  in 
greater  detail  on  the  particular  forms  assumed  by  the 
guardian  spirit  cult  among  several  representative  tribal 
groups. 

The  Southern  Kwakiutl  of  the  Northwest  Coast  are  di- 
vided into  a  large  number  of  clans,  each  of  which  traces 
its  origin  to  a  mythical  ancestor,  on  whose  adventures  the 


^A  most  suggestive  account  of  the  acquisition  of  a  guardian  spirit  will  be 
found  in  Paul  Radin's  "An  Autobiography  of  a  Winnebago  Indian,"  Journal 
of  American  Folk-Lore,  1913.  In  this  case  the  supernatural  protector  is  the 
Earth  Spirit,  with  whom  the  somewhat  sophisticated  Indian  repeatedly  fails 
to  enter  into  rapport.  The  entire  account,  while  particularly  representative 
of  the  transition  between  blind  faith  and  mild  scepticism  characteristic  of 
many  modern  Indians,  bristles  with  touches  of  genuine  Indian  thought  and 
emotional  reaction. 


1 86  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

crests  and  privileges  of  the  clan  depend.  In  the  course  of 
such  adventures  the  ancestor  meets  the  sacred  creature 
of  the  clan  and  obtains  from  it  supernatural  powers  and 
magical  objects,  such  as  the  magic  harpoon,  which  insures 
success  in  sea-water  hunting,  the  water  of  life,  which  re- 
suscitates the  dead,  and  the  like.  He  also  secures  a  dance, 
a  song,  a  distinctive  cry — each  spirit  having  a  cry  of  its 
own — and  the  right  to  use  certain  carvings.  The  dance  al- 
ways consists  of  a  dramatic  presentation  of  the  myth  in 
which  the  ancestor  acquires  gifts  from  the  spirit.  Some  of 
these  spirits  are  animals,  the  bear,  wolf,  sea  lion,  killer- 
whale;  others  are  fabulous  monsters.  To  the  latter  class 
belongs  Sisiutl,  a  mythic  double-headed  snake,  which  often 
assumes  the  shape  of  a  fish.  To  eat  it  or  see  it  means 
certain  death :  all  joints  of  the  culprit  become  dislocated 
and  his  head  is  turned  backwards.  Another  monster  is  the 
cannibal  woman,  Dzonoqwa.  Both  Sisiutl  and  Dzonoqwa 
are  highly  dangerous  when  hostile,  but  when  their  good 
will  is  assured,  they  are  most  useful,  and  the  powers  they 
bestow  are  greatly  sought  after. 

All  of  these  spirits  and  the  gifts  they  bestow  are  heredi- 
tary among  the  Kwakiutl.  In  some  instances  an  individual 
may  transmit  these  valuable  privileges  to  his  descendants; 
but  more  often,  a  set  of  guardian  spirits  with  their  gifts 
become  a  hereditary  prerogative  of  a  clan.  Henceforth 
all  individuals  of  that  clan  may  obtain  supernatural  powers 
from  such  spirits.  Some  spirits  figure  only  in  the  ancestral 
traditions,  others  can  still  be  obtained  by  the  Kwakiutl 
youths.  Prominent  among  spirits  of  the  latter  class  is  Mak- 
ing-War-all-over-the-Earth.  With  the  assistance  of  this 
spirit  a  youth  may  obtain  three  different  powers :  mastery 
over  the  Sisiutl,  the  capacity  to  catch  the  invisible  Dream 
Spirit,  and  insensibility  to  pain  and  wounds.  With  the  as- 
sistance of  The-First-One-to-Eat-Man-at-the-Mouth-of-the- 
River,  another  spirit,  nine  powers  may  be  obtained.  The 
spirit  Maden  is  a  bird  and  gives  the  faculty  of  flying.    Vari- 


RELIGION  AND   MAGIC  187 

ous  ghost  spirits  bestow  the  power  to  return  to  life  after 
having  been  killed. 

The  spirits  appear  only  in  the  winter,  the  season  of  the 
"secrets."  During  the  winter  ceremonial,  which  is  per- 
formed during  this  season,  the  people  are  divided  into  two 
main  bodies,  the  initiated  ("Seals")  and  the  uninitiated 
("Sparrows").  The  latter  are  divided  into  groups  consist- 
ing of  individuals  who  will  be  initiated  at  approximately  the 
same  time.  There  are  ten  such  groups  or  societies — seven 
male  and  three  female — and  most  of  them  bear  animal 
names. 

Throughout  the  ceremonies,  the  two  groups  are  hostile  to 
each  other.  The  "Seals"  attack  and  torment  the  "Spar- 
rows," who  try  to  reciprocate  to  the  best  of  their  ability. 
The  object  of  part  of  the  ceremonies  performed  by  each 
society  is  to  secure  the  return  of  the  youth  who  has  been 
taken  away  by  a  supernatural  being,  the  spirit  protector 
of  the  society.  When  the  novice  finally  returns  he  is  in  a 
state  of  ecstasy;  and  ceremonies  are  performed  to  restore 
him  to  his  senses. 

Among  the  Haida  the  guardian  spirit  idea  finds  its  clear- 
est expression  in  the  beliefs  about  shamans.  When  a  super- 
natural being  took  possession  of  a  man  and  spoke  and  acted 
through  him,  the  man  became  a  shaman.  While  the  spirit 
was  operating,  the  shaman  lost  his  personal  identity  and 
became  one  with  the  spirit.  He  dressed  as  directed  by  the 
spirit  and  used  its  language.  Thus,  if  a  supernatural  be- 
ing from  the  Tlingit  country  took  possession  of  a  shaman, 
he  spoke  Tlingit,  although  otherwise  ignorant  of  that 
tongue.  The  personal  name  also  was  discarded  and  the 
spirit's  name  substituted,  and  as  the  spirit  changed  the 
name  was  also  changed. 

The  Tlingit  shamans  were  even  more  powerful  than  those 
of  the  Haida.  Whereas  the  Haida  shaman  usually  owned 
but  one  spirit  and  no  masks,  his  Tlingit  colleague  could 
boast  of  several  spirits  and  masks.  The  representations 
of    subsidiary    spirits    on    masks    were    all    designed    to 


1 88  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

strengthen  certain  faculties  of  the  shaman.  The  shaman, 
as  well  as  an  ordinary  individual,  could  increase  their 
powers  by  obtaining  the  tongues  of  a  variety  of  spirit 
animals,  especially  those  of  land  otters,  which  were  mixed 
with  eagle  claws  and  other  articles  and  carefully  stored 
away.  Shamans  often  performed  merely  for  display  or, 
when  desirous  of  demonstrating  their  superior  powers,  they 
engaged  in  imaginary  battles  with  other  shamans  many 
miles  away. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  how  deeply  the  belief  in  guardian 
spirits  has  entered  into  the  lives  and  thought  of  the  people 
of  British  Columbia  and  of  Southern  Alaska;  and  the  par- 
ticular forms  and  applications  of  this  belief  are  as  varied 
as  they  are  numerous.  Reared  on  the  fertile  ground  of  a 
general  animism,  guardian  spirits  manifest  themselves 
through  the  medium  of  many  things  and  beings.  By  the 
means  of  art,  the  realm  of  magical  potentialities  becomes 
further  extended:  for  when  the  representation  of  a  spirit 
protector  is  carved  on  an  implement,  weapon,  or  ceremonial 
object,  the  thing  itself  becomes  a  carrier  of  supernatural 
power.  Among  the  Kwakiutl,  the  guardian  spirit  idea 
stands  in  the  center  of  a  complex  system  of  secret  societies 
and  initiation  ceremonies.  With  the  approach  of  winter,  the 
guardian  spirit,  like  a  ghost  of  the  past,  emerges  from  its 
summer  retirement  and  through  the  medium  ofi  names 
transforms  the  social  organization  of  the  people.  Among 
the  Haida  and  Tlingit,  the  belief  in  the  magical  powers 
of  supernatural  helpers  has  engendered  a  prolific  growth 
of  shamanistic  practices.  The  type  of  clan  and  family 
legends  prevalent  on  the  entire  coast,  particularly  among  the 
Tsimshian,  Haida  and  Tlingit,  consists  of  an  account  of 
how  the  ancestor  of  the  clan  or  family  met  his  guardian 
spirit  and  obtained  from  it  supernatural  powers,  a  mytho- 
logical motif  which  receives  its  dramatic  embodiment  In 
the  dances  of  the  secret  societies.  The  guardian  spirit  idea 
also  figures  as  one  of  the  standards  of  rank  found  among 
these  people.     The  vaster  the  powers  of  a  supernatural 


RELIGION  AND   MAGIC  189 

guardian,  the  greater  respect  does  its  owner  command; 
while  secret  societies  rank  according  to  the  powers  of  their 
members. 

In  the  Plateau  area,  the  guardian  spirit  phenomena  have 
been  studied  with  particular  care  among  the  Thompson 
River  Indians,  the  Shuswap  and  the  Lillooet.  Among  the 
Thompson  River  Indians,  every  person  had  a  guardian 
spirit,  which  he  acquired  at  puberty.  Here  the  spirits  were 
not  inherited,  excepting  only  the  cases  of  a  few  exceptionally 
powerful  shamans.  All  animals  and  objects  possessed  of 
magic  qualities  could  become  guardian  spirits;  the  powers 
of  such  spirits  had  become  differentiated  so  that  certain 
groups  of  supernatural  helpers  were  associated  with  definite 
social  or  professional  classes.  The  shamans  had  their 
favorite  spirits,  among  which  were  natural  phenomena 
(night,  fog,  east,  west),  man  or  parts  of  the  human  body 
(woman,  young  girl,  hands  or  feet  of  men,  etc.),  animals 
(bat),  objects  referring  to  death  (land  of  souls,  ghosts, 
dead  man's  hair,  bones  and  teeth,  etc.).  Warriors  had 
their  set  of  spirits,  so  did  hunters,  fishermen,  gamblers,  run- 
ners, women.  Each  person  partook  of  the  qualities  of  his 
or  her  guardian  spirit.  Among  the  spirits  peculiar  to  sha- 
mans, parts  of  animals  or  objects  were  not  uncommon, 
such  as  the  tail  of  a  snake,  the  nipple  of  a  gun,  the  left 
or  right  side  of  anything,  and  the  like.  Although  the  range 
of  animals,  natural  phenomena,  inanimate  objects,  which 
could  become  guardian  spirits,  embraced  a  large  part  of 
nature,  certain  animals  that  lacked  magic  power  never  fig- 
ured as  guardian  spirits.  Such  were  the  mouse,  chipmunk, 
squirrel,  rat,  butterfly,  and  some  others.  But  few  birds 
and  scarcely  any  trees  or  herbs  ever  functioned  as  spirit 
protectors. 

When  the  Shuswap  lad  began  to  dream  of  women,  ar- 
rows and  canoes,  or  when  his  voice  began  to  change,  his 
time  had  arrived  for  craving  and  obtaining  a  guardian 
spirit,  similarly,  the  young  men  of  the  Lillooet  acquired  guar- 
dian spirits  and,  at  the  instigation  of  their  elders,  performed 


190  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

a  guardian  spirit  dance  during  which  they  imitated  their  su- 
pernatural protectors  in  motion,  gesture  and  cry.  In  some  of 
their  clan  dances,  masks  were  used  which  sometimes  referred 
to  an  incident  in  the  clan  myth.  The  dancer  personified  the 
ancestor  himself,  or  his  guardian  spirit.  Powerful  guardian 
spirits  enabled  the  shamans  to  perform  wonderful  feats. 
The  weapons,  implements,  and  other  objects  of  the  Lillooet 
were  often  decorated  with  designs  representing  guardian 
spirits.  Similar  figures  were  painted  or  tatooed  on  face 
and  body. 

Among  these  tribes  the  common  people  were  divided  into 
societies,  membership  in  most  of  which  was  not  strictly 
hereditary,  while  in  others,  such  as  the  Black  Bear,  the 
hereditary  character  was  more  pronounced.  Among  the 
twenty-nine  protectors  of  the  societies,  twenty  were  animals, 
while  the  rest  included  plants,  natural  phenomena,  inani- 
mate objects,  as  well  as  hunger  and  famine.  Some  of  these 
societies  were  regarded  as  closely  related,  and  the  members 
of  such  societies  were  permitted  to  use  each  others  dances 
and  songs;  but  as  a  rule,  each  society  claimed  its  own  dis- 
tinctive garments,  ornaments,  dances  and  songs. 

Some  of  the  ceremonies  could  be  performed  at  any  time, 
but  the  winter  was  the  favorite  ceremonial  season.  During 
the  dances,  the  moose,  caribou,  elk,  deer,  and  other  pro- 
tective spirits  were  impersonated.  The  actors  dressed  in 
the  skins  of  these  animals,  with  the  scalp  part  hanging 
over  their  heads  and  faces.  Some  had  antlers  attached 
to  the  head  and  neck.  The  dancers  went  through  all  the 
actions  of  the  animal  impersonated,  imitating  the  incidents 
in  the  finding  and  fishing,  hunting  and  snaring,  chasing  over 
lakes  in  canoes,  and  final  capture  or  death  of  the  animal. 

In  the  Plains  area,  the  form  assumed  by  the  guardian 
spirit  incident  is  that  of  a  transfer  of  a  possession,  material 
or  spiritual,  natural  or  supernatural,  from  one  owner  to 
another.  The  transfer  may  be  from  one  man  to  another  or 
from  a  guardian  spirit  to  a  novitiate.  The  medium  of 
transfer  is  usually  a  dream.    The  pattern  of  the  entire  pro- 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  191 

cedure  has  been  developed  to  such  a  nicety  that  students  find 
it  difficult  to  distinguish  between  an  original  guardian  spirit 
acquisition  and  an  account  of  a  transfer  of  a  spirit  from  in- 
dividual to  individual.  The  materialization  of  the  pro- 
cedure has  also  been  carried  very  far.  Having  secured  a 
vision  or  dream,  the  initiate  prepares  a  medicine  bundle, 
which  is  nothing  but  a  bag,  often  made  of  otter  skin,  filled 
with  various  small  articles,  such  as  pieces  of  skin,  small 
pebbles,  quartz,  animal  or  vegetable  matter,  and  the  like. 
None  of  these  objects  possesses  any  intrinsic  value,  but  in 
this  context  they  acquire  the  significance  of  charms,  of  car- 
riers of  supernatural  power.  The  medicine  bundle  may  thus 
be  likened  to  an  electric  battery  charged  with  potential  cur- 
rent, from  which  great  quantities  of  dynamic  force  can  be 
produced  at  will.  Contrary  to  the  customs  of  the  Plateau 
area,  but  in  line  with  those  of  the  Northwest,  medicine 
bundles  and  even  guardian  spirits  tend  to  become  hereditary 
among  some  Plains  tribes.  It  must  be  noted,  however,  that 
this  process  of  hereditary  transfer  when  unaccompanied  by 
a  personal  guardian  spirit  experience,  may  not  be  continued 
indefinitely  without  a  consequent  loss  of  power.  It  may  go 
on  for  two  generations,  but  at  the  third  transfer  the  power 
gives  out — the  dynamo  must  be  recharged  by  personal  con- 
tact with  a  supernatural  source,  if  it  is  to  continue  doing 
work  along  magical  lines. 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  guardian  spirit  cult  in  the  Plains 
that  the  supernatural  vision  is  sought  not  at  puberty,  but  by 
adults.  But  in  details  the  cults  differ  greatly  from  tribe 
to  tribe/ 


*In  an  unpublished  note  kindly  placed  at  my  disposal  by  Mrs.  Ruth 
Benedict,  the  following  interes'ting  summary  of  some  of  these  tribal  dif- 
ferentiations is  presented. 

The  Arapaho  use  self-torture  to  induce  the  vision.  All  adult  males  seek 
it,  and  it  depends  wholly  on  the  power  given  him  at  that  time  whether  the 
suppliant  becomes  a  shaman  or  a  warrior.  The  Dakota,  however,  mark  off 
the  laity:  shamans  fast  once  to  obtain  a  guardian  spirit,  a  prescribed  vision 
with  a  very  complicated  formula;  the  laity  fast  on  every  occasion,  with 
extreme  self-torture,  not  for  a  guardian  spirit,  but  for  help  from  the  sun 
in  some  particular  and  immediate  undertaking.  The  Crow,  on  the  contrary, 
require  a  guardian  spirit  as  a  part  of  the  equipment  of  every  ambitious 


192  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

Among  the  Winnebago,  who,  in  their  guardian  spirit 
customs,  resemble  the  typical  Plains  tribes,  there  is  the 
peculiarity  that  the  guardian  spirits  are  believed  to  be 
localized.  These  spirits,  which  may  be  designated  as  guar- 
dian prototypes  or  originals  (not  unlike  the  "Ideas"  of 
Plato),  reside  in  definite  places,  in  a  valley  or  mountain 
fastness,  or  behind  a  certain  rock.  The  guardian  spirits 
which  appear  to  the  searchers  for  power  are  but  reflections 
or  spiritual  representatives  of  these  permanent  reservoirs 
of  magical  potency.  There  is  striking  resemblance  between 
this  conception  and  the  Ideas  of  the  Chukchee  and  Koryak 
of  Northeastern  Siberia,  where  a  similar  relationship  ob- 
tains between  the  so-called  supernatural  "Masters"  and 
their  animal  representatives  on  earth. 

Among  the  Iroquois,  guardian  spirits,  whether  of  animals, 
birds  or  objects,  almost  always  appear  in  human  form. 
This  is  in  keeping  with  the  highly  anthropomorphised 
character  of  Iroquois  religion,  mythology  and  cosmology. 
A  number  of  societies  also  occur  here  which  are  more  or 
less  clearly  associated  with  supernatural  protectors. 

Thus,  the  guardian  spirit  beliefs  of  the  North  Ameri- 
can Indians  present  an  interesting  illustration  of  a  cultural 
feature.  Indigenous  in  an  immense  area  and  evidently  of 
great  antiquity,  which  In  a  multitude  of  forms  and  cultural 
associations  appears  in  all  of  the  major  areas  and  probably 


man ;  and  the  suppliant  becomes  a  "child"  of  his  vision-adopted  "father." 
The  formula  is  rigid  and  very  distinctive  for  this  tribe. 

The  Blackfoot  use  no  torture  except  hunger  and  thirst  to  induce  the 
vision.  One  idea  in  connection  with  these  experiences  has  saturated  their 
culture:  these  visions  can  be  bought  and  sold.  They  make  absolutely  no 
distinction  between  the  visions  they  have  bought  and  the  ones  they  have 
themselves  fasted  for.  To  invest  in  other  men's  visions  is  a  necessary 
qualification  for  ■social  prestige;  and  the  "medicine  bundles"  which  are  the 
visible  insignia  of  possession  are  the  basis  of  their  economic  system. 

The  Hidatsa  elaborated  a  different  idea,  the  idea  of  inheritance.  They 
respected  the  Blackfoot  scheme  of  purchase  sufficiently  to  require  that  pay- 
ment be  made  for  all  such  things  inherited.  And  they  agreed  with  general 
Plains  theory  sufficiently  to  insist  that  before  one  inherited,  one  must  see 
the  vision.  Hence  it  became  necessary  for  the  head  of  the  family  to  exercise 
supervision  over  the  faster  that  the  proper  family  spirit  might  appear  to 
him.  In  spite  of  all  difficulties,  however,  the  tribal  pattern  required  that 
the  medicine  bundle  descend  from  father  to  son. 


RELIGION  AND   MAGIC  193 

in  every  tribe  6f  the  vast  continent.  A  possible  exception 
are  the  Eskimo,  but  -^ven  here  the  spirit  helpers  of  the 
angakut  almost  certa!.ily  belong  to  the  same  category  of 
phenomena,  on  a  par  with  the  spirit  assistants,  messengers, 
and  the  like,  of  the  shamans  of  Northeastern  Siberia. 

Guardian  spirits  are  not  unknown  in  Australia  and  cog- 
nate beliefs  have  been  described  in  some  of  the  island 
groups  of  Melanesia,  as  well  as  in  the  Malay  Archipelago. 
In  a  somewhat  wider  sense,  beliefs  in  guardian  spirits  or 
spirit  protectors  are  common  throughout  Africa  and  among 
primitive  tribes  in  general,  but  in  North  America  these  be- 
liefs and  their  associated  practices  have  entered  into  an 
extraordinary  set  of  cultural  associations,  thus  affecting  the 
personal  religion  as  well  as  the  religious  institutionalism, 
mythology,  totemism  and  even  some  aspects  of  the  social 
organization  of  the  Indians.  It  seems,  indeed,  justifiable 
to  designate  the  guardian  spirit  as  one  of  the  basic  roots 
of  North  American  religion. 

Modern  Magic 

In  the  course  of  our  survey,  it  has  been  shown  more  than 
once  to  what  extent  the  world  view  of  the  "savage"  is  con- 
trolled by  magical  idiosyncrasy.  It  remains  to  inquire 
whether  this  phenomenon  is  peculiar  to  early  mentality,  or 
whether  we  are  not  facing  in  magic,  as  more  than  once  be- 
fore, a  sample  of  the  common-human.  That  the  latter  al- 
ternative corresponds  to  the  facts  becomes  evident  upon 
most  superficial  analysis. 

The  works  of  Frazer  and  Mannhardt  abound  in  illus- 
trations of  so-called  "superstitions"  current  among  the 
peasantry  of  Europe.  In  the  traditional  beliefs  of  these 
people,  spirits  and  demons,  spooks,  ghosts  and  apparitions, 
omens,  dreams  and  visions,  continue  to  hold  undisputed 
sway,  and  the  century-old  teachings  of  Christianity  seem 
quite  powerless  to  dislodge  these  even  more  ancient  and 
deep  rooted  beliefs.    Even  in  the  cities,  amidst  schools  and 


194  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

universities,  the  faith  in  charms  persists  unabated,  no  less 
than  the  belief  in  lucky  and  unlucky  stones,  and  the  evil 
eye.  In  the  fold  of  institutionalized  Christianity  itself  the 
attitude  toward  the  objectified  representations  of  divinity 
and  holy  persons  is  heavily  wrought  with  magical  connota- 
tions. So  are  the  beliefs  in  other  than  natural  healing, 
which  are  still  so  common,  centering  at  the  present  time 
about  certain  holy  places  in  Russia,  France,  Canada,  and 
elsewhere.' 

Examples  of  similar  attitudes  are  not  lacking  in  the 
wholly  secular  experiences  of  our  daily  life.  Thus  the 
status  of  the  physician  in  modern  society  is  not  by  any 
means  devoid  of  a  certain  magical  flavor.  To  a  degree,  the 
standing  of  a  physician  depends  on  his  professional  com- 
petence, his  knowledge  and  experience.  But  this  is  only 
one  element,  and  perhaps  not  the  determining  one.  For 
what  counts  with  the  public  is  success,  and  a  few  conspicuous 
cures,  however  accidental  and  funforeseeable,  contribute 
more  to  the  reputation  of  a  practitioner  than  a  prolonged 
period  of  efficient  but  drab  medical  practice.  The  success- 
ful physician  walks  in  a  halo  which  is  not  entirely  natural 
in  its  substance.  His  appeal  is,  at  least  in  part,  that  of  a 
man  whose  powers  are  extraordinary,  not  reducible  to 
mere  knowledge  and  experience  and  beyond  the  reach  of 
other  individuals,  including  most  other  physicians. 

To  believe  in  dreams  is  no  longer  good  form  in  our 
midst,  but  how  many  of  us  are  quite  free  from  the  tendency 
to  ascribe  to  dreams  at  least  a  measure  of  prognosticatory 
or  telepathic  significance  ?  A  woman  dreams  of  her  mother 
and  on  awakening  finds  the  news  of  the  mother's  sickness 


*Note  in  this  connection  the  following  news  items  from  the  New  York 
Times  for  August  25th,  1920:  "Templemore,  Ireland.  An  incessant  stream 
of  pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  Ireland  continues  to  pour  into  Templemore 
to  visit  the  home  of  Thomas  Divan,  where  it  was  recently  asserted  miracu- 
lous cures  were  being  effected  through  the  medium  of  sacred  statues  said 
to  have  shed  blood  mysteriously  last  week. 

"The  neighboring  towns  and  villages  are  overflowing  with  people  unable 
to  get  into  Templemore.  .   .   . 

"Further  remarkable  cures  were  claimed  today." 


RELIGION  AND   MAGIC  195 

or  death  in  her  morning  mail.  She  "had  not  thought  of 
mother  for  days,"  had  "no  idea  that  she  could  be  sick,"  and 
"why  just  the  night  before  the  letter  came?"  and  "can  it  be 
only  a  coincidence?"  And  so  it  goes!  Let  only  the  "coin- 
cidences" multiply  and  the  staunchest  doubter  begins  to 
waver  in  his  scepticism. 

Among  the  examples  of  latter  day  supernaturalism,  few 
are  more  striking  than  the  persistent  belief  that  the  psychic 
experiences  of  a  pregnant  woman  may  exercise  a  specific 
effect  on  the  child.  We  hear  of  children  born  during  the 
French  Revolution  with  the  revolutionary  emblem  on  their 
chests;  or  again,  a  mother  frightened  by  a  frog,  gives  birth 
to  a  child  with  a  birthmark  resembling  a  frog;  another 
child,  whose  mother  broke  her  wrist  while  in  pregnancy,  is 
born  with  a  wrist  broken  or  at  least  weakened  in  the  same 
place;  and  so  on  indefinitely.  In  a  book  published  not  so 
long  ago  ("Sex  Antagonism"  by  W.  Heape),  a  considerable 
collection  of  such  instances  is  brought  before  the  reader  as 
worthy  of  belief.  The  author  of  the  book  happens  to  be  an 
animal  breeder,  member  of  a  professional  group  whose  daily 
experiences  bring  them  in  touch  with  facts  which  suggest 
interpretations  through  what  Kroeber  called  "inheritance 
by  magic."  No  more  than  Jacob  could  resist  the  tempta- 
tion of  interpreting  by  a  mechanism  such  as  the  above  the 
peculiar  and  varied  coloration  of  his  sheep,  can  the  modern 
fencier  overcome  the  suggestive  influence  of  the  many  in- 
stances in  his  experience  where  an  interpretation  through 
pre-natal  influence  may  be  made,  and  he  makes  it  forthwith. 
Many  persons  who  would  reject  all  such  suggestions  with  a 
shrug  of  the  shoulder,  prove  equally  positive  in  their  claim 
that  should  the  expectant  mother  engage  in  voluminous  read- 
ing, this  might  enhance  the  literary  proclivities  of  her  off- 
spring, and  should  she  frequent  concerts,  the  musical  gifts  of 
the  baby  may  be  similarly  stimulated.  In  principle,  of 
course,  there  is  no  difference  between  these  cases  and  those 
cited  before.  Add  to  this  lucky  and  unlucky  days,  magic 
numbers,  black  cats,  nuns,  umbrellas  opened  indoors,  or  just 


196  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

any  untoward  happening  at  a  ceremony  or  other  emotionally 
significant  occasion,  and  the  impression  becomes  irresistible 
that  modern  society  is,  after  all,  not  so  far  removed  from  a 
belief  in  other  than  natural  causation. 

Not  infrequently  one  may  hear  the  remark :  "I  am  super- 
stitious." In  this  form  sincere  persons  give  expression  to 
the  fact  that  while  rational  in  intention,  they  are  unable  to 
resist  the  temptation  to  react  in  some  special  way  to  those 
situations  where  superstition  is  traditionally  sanctioned. 
We  think  of  open  penknives,  three  candles,  knocking  on 
wood,  and  what  not.  It  would  almost  seem  as  if  the 
proclivity  of  people  to  be  superstitious  in  this  sense  were 
proportionate  to  the  degree  to  which  their  profession  or 
occupation  is  in  the  control  of  unforeseeable  factors.  Here 
the  gambler  ranks  first.  From  day  to  day,  from  moment  to 
moment,  his  future  is  uncertain.  If  expert  in  mathematics, 
he  may  be  perfectly  aware  of  the  unreasonableness  of  such 
concepts  as  luck;  yet,  no  sooner  does  he  fall  under  the  spell 
of  the  green  table  or  the  green  lawn  or  the  tape,  than  his 
psychology  inevitably  glides  into  the  channel  of  complete 
subjection  to  luck  magic.  Today  luck  smiles  on  him, 
and  there  is  no  end  to  his  daring;  tomorrow  cards  turn 
against  him,  and  he  refuses  to  take  any  further  chances, 
although  experience  and  probability  would  dictate  the  oppo- 
site course.  Next  to  the  gambler  comes  the  hunter.  He 
may  be  an  expert,  but  legion  is  the  number  of  unforseeable 
factors  which  at  least  co-determine  his  success.  Hence,  his 
acute  sensitiveness  toward  omens,  dreams,  prognostications, 
well  wishing  and  other  like  premonitions.  Here  also  be- 
longs the  actor.  Actors  and  actresses  enjoy  a  deserved 
reputation  for  superstitious  inclinations  far  above  the  aver- 
age. Once  more  this  tendency  may  be  brought  into  relation 
with  the  indefiniteness  of  their  careers.  Apart  from  talent, 
training,  and  even  former  favors  on  the  part  of  the  public, 
the  fate  of  the  actor,  of  his  contract,  and  ultimately  of  his 
dinner,  depends  from  night  to  night  on  the  appeal  of  a  par- 
ticular performance  to  the  audience.     Now,  all  actors  and 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  197 

actresses,  no  matter  how  successful,  know  the  elusiveness 
of  the  taste  or  mood  of  audiences.  They  cannot  bank,  on 
it,  hence  the  constant  suspense.  Such  being  the  case,  the 
host  of  omens,  of  good  and  bad  signs  and  with  them  the 
entire  galaxy  of  magical  odds  and  ends,  have  their  free  play. 
Magic  is  no  part  of  our  institutionalized  religion.  It  is 
indignantly  rejected  from  a  rational  world  view  by  all  men 
and  women  who  "think,"  but  it  is  with  us  nevertheless,  and 
who  may  tell  for  how  long? 

Mana  or  Impersonal  Supernatural  Power 

Our  analysis  of  religion  and  magic  makes  it  clear  that  the 
idea  of  supernatural  power  is  common  to  both  and  repre- 
sents, in  fact,  the  basic  concept  underlying  the  religio-magical 
world  view.  On  the  emotional  side,  an  equally  fundamental 
factor  is  the  religious  thrill. 

The  idea  of  supernatural  power  assumed  the  central  posi- 
tion in  the  discussion  of  primitive  religion  with  the  intro- 
duction of  the  concept  of  mana.  The  emergence  of  this 
concept  in  the  study  of  primitive  religion  and  its  subsequent 
career  are  so  instructive  as  to  invite  a  slight  historical  digres- 
sion. 

Mana  was  formally  introduced  to  ethnologists  by  Cod- 
rington  in  his  book  on  the  Melanesians  (1896).  He  there 
made  clear  that  among  the  various  tribes  of  the  South 
Seas  the  idea  designated  by  the  term  mana  occupies  an  alto- 
gether distinctive  position  among  other  religious  conceptions. 
It  indicates  power  which  is  supernatural  and  impersonal. 
Mana  itself  is  not  an  animal  or  human  being,  nor  a  ghost 
or  spirit,  it  is  just  power,  magical  potency.  Although  im- 
personal per  se,  it  manifests  itself  with  equal  facility  through 
natural  objects  or  beings,  through  man,  spirits,  or  ghosts.^ 

Quite  independent  of  Codrington's  researches,  ideas  simi- 


'It  may  be  noted  in  passing  that  in  this  area  the  ideas  of  ghost  and  spirit 
are  sharply  distinguished.  A  ghost  is  always  the  spirit  of  a  deceased  indi- 
vidual, while  a  spirit  is  a  spiritual  entity  which  either  exists  in  detached 
form  or  dwells  in  a  thing  or  being. 


198  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

lar  to  mana  were  discovered  in  North  America.  Two  con- 
tributions stand  out  pre-eminent  in  this  connection,  William 
Jones'  article  on  "The  Algonquin  Manitou"^  and  J.  N.  B. 
Hewitt's  "Orenda,  or  a  Definition  of  Religion."^  It  is 
worth  noting  that  both  of  these  students  are  of  Indian 
descent,  William  Jones  belonging  to  the  Algonquin  speak- 
ing Sawk  and  Fox  Indians,  while  Hewitt  is  a  Tuscarora  Iro- 
quois. At  the  hand  of  ethnological  and  linguistic  evidence, 
Jones  shows  with  great  clearness  that  the  idea  of  manitou 
implies  supernatural  power  in  itself  impersonal,  which  may 
or  may  not  manifest  itself  through  objects,  beings  and  na- 
tural phenomena.  The  Algonquin  term  may  appear  either 
with  or  without  the  personal  article,  in  accordance  with  the 
meaning  intended.  Hewitt's  argument  is  based  wholly 
on  a  linguistic  reconstruction.  He  traces  the  root  vowel 
of  the  term  orenda  in  a  multiplicity  of  terms  referring  to 
things,  beings  or  actions  connected  with  supernatural  power. 
Taking  this  as  a  starting  point,  Hewitt  constructs  an  ancient 
Iroquoian  religion  built  upon  the  idea  of  orenda,  impersonal 
supernatural  power.  While  Hewitt's  procedure  is  not 
wholly  unobjectionable  from  a  theoretical  standpoint,  eth- 
nologists have  come  to  recognize  that  the  fundamental  idea 
in  such  conceptions  as  the  Algonquin  manitou^  the  Iroquoian 
orenda  and  the  Siouan  wakan,  is  the  same,  and  that  there  is 
an  unmistakable  similarity  between  this  idea  and  the  mana 
of  the  South  Seas. 

Presently,  still  another  field  was  drawn  into  the  discus- 
sion. The  meritorious  volume  of  Pechuel-Loesche,'  dealing 
with  certain  natives  of  the  west  coast  of  Africa,  between  the 
deltas  of  the  Congo  and  the  Niger,  brings  further  evidence 
of  a  similar  sort.  This  region  is  the  home  of  fetichism, 
which  ever  since  the  classic  discussion  by  Schurtz^was  defined 
as  the  religion  of  the  fetich,  a  small,  usually  artificial  object, 
through  which  an  indwelling  spirit  is  operating.     Pechuel- 


^Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  1905. 
^American  Anthropologist,  1892. 
*"Die  Loango  Expedition,"  Vol.  Ill,  1907. 
*C/.  his  "Der  Fetichismus,"  1877. 


RELIGION  AND   MAGIC  199 

Loesche's  painstaking  researches,  which  Included  linguistic 
analysis,  led  him  to  depart  radically  from  Schurtz's  gener- 
alization. The  author  asserts  that  the  conception  underly- 
ing the  fetichism  of  this  area  is  not  that  of  an  indwelling 
spirit.  To  him  a  fetich  is  an  artlfical  object  made  in  a 
certain  way  or  prepared  in  accordance  with  a  certain  recipe, 
which  possesses  certain  definite  powers,  or  perhaps  only  one 
power.  If  the  shape  of  the  object  is  changed  or  the  recipe 
which  determines  its  composition  is  not  followed,  the  power 
or  powers  are  lost  or  modified.  The  basic  conception  is  that 
of  power,  in  itself  impersonal,  definite  qualities  and  quan- 
tities of  which  can  be  secured  under  certain  highly  specific 
conditions.  Once  again,  then,  the  idea  Involved  is  similar 
to  mana. 

It  is  not  unlikely  that  Pechuel-Loesche's  position  is  some- 
what one-sided.  The  idea  of  an  Indwelling  spirit  is  so  com- 
mon In  Africa  and  elsewhere,  that  there  can  scarcely  be  any 
doubt  of  its  occurrence  in  these  western  regions  of  the  con- 
tinent.^ There  Is,  however,  no  ground  to  doubt  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  author's  generalization  Insofar  as  it  refers 
to  West  African  fetiches. 

The  generality  of  the  mana  idea  was  thus  established  on 
a  fairly  wide  geographical  basis.  Theoretically  inclined 
ethnologists  and  students  of  religion  were  prompt  In  utiliz- 
ing this  valuable  addition  to  the  basic  concepts  of  early  re- 
ligion, as  may  be  seen  from  the  breezy  critical  discussions  of 
the  ideas  of  Tylor  and  Frazer  by  Andrew  Lang  in  his  "The 
Making  of  Religion"  and  "Magic  and  Religion."  But  this 
aspect  of  the  problem  derived  its  main  stimulus  from  the 
work  of  Marett,  who.  In  his  essay  on  "Pre-animistic  Reli- 
gion,"^ utilized  the  idea  of  mana  as  a  foundation  on  which 
to  build  a  world  view  earlier  even  than  that  of  animism, 
Marett's  argument  being  that  the  idea  of  impersonal  super- 
natural power  is  in  Its  very  nature  more  simple  and  hence 


'For  a  careful  summary  of  beliefs  in  souls   and  spirits  in  Africa,  see 
Ankermann  in  Zeitschrift  fiir  Ethnologie,  vol.  50,  1918,  pp.  89-153. 
^Folk-Lore,  1900. 


200  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

more  primitive  than  that  of  a  power-wielding  personal 
spirit.  Marett's  contribution  came  at  a  psychological  mo- 
ment and  his  little  essay  presently  became  the  crystallization 
point  for  a  new  philosophy  of  primitive  religion.  At  the 
Third  International  Congress  of  Religions,  held  at  Oxford, 
in  1908,  the  subjects  of  mana  and  animatism — Marett's 
term  for  the  pre-animistic  religion — were  the  principal  topics 
of  discussion  in  the  section  devoted  to  primitive  religion. 

Presently,  mana  was  Identified  with  magic,  and  in  this 
form  its  use  became  still  further  extended.  Hubert  and 
Mauss,  two  faithful  students  of  Durkheim,  made  a  sweep- 
ing application  of  the  mana  concept  in  their  treatise  on 
magic,^  Preuss  skillfully  wove  the  mana  idea  into  his  ana- 
lysis of  the  beginnings  of  religion  and  art,^  while  Durkheim 
in  his  great  book  on  religion^  identified  mana  with  the  reli- 
gious core  of  totemism. 

Thus  the  dogma  of  animism,  of  a  spirit  infested  world, 
was  supplemented,  in  fact  came  near  being  replaced,  by 
another  dogma,  a  world  swept  by  mana,  impersonal  magic 
power. 

After  a  calm  retrospect,  the  mana  idea  must  be  welcomed 
as  a  genuine  addition  to  our  understanding  of  early  religion, 
nay  of  all  religion.  While  there  is  no  particular  meaning 
in  having  mana  and  spirit  pitted  against  each  other  with 
reference  to  their  chronological  priority,  it  is  clear  that  the 
idea  of  spirit  is  only  one  part  of  the  fundamental  ideology 
of  religion,  the  other  being  mana,  power.  The  latter  sup- 
plies the  dynamic  principle,  whereas  spirit  in  itself  is  but  a 
concept  of  form  or  being.  When  Professor  Shotwell  de- 
fines religion  as  "a  reaction  of  mankind  to  something  which 
is  apprehended  but  not  comprehended,"*  he  omits  to  state — 
a  fatal  omission  indeed — that  the  something  to  which  there 
is  a  reaction  is  in  the  religious  situation  not  merely  a  form  or 


"'Exquise  d'une  theorie  generale  de  la  Magie,"  Annie  Sociologique,  VII, 
»904. 

'Ursprung  der  Religion  und  der  Kunst,"  Globus,  1904-1905. 
*See  pp.  361  sq. 
*"The  Religious  Revolution  oi  Today,"  p.  loi. 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  201 

a  substance  or  a  being,  but  a  power.  From  this  it  follows 
that  the  idea  of  supernatural  power — impersonal,  formless, 
but  withal,  a  power,  and  supernatural —  must  be  coupled 
with  spirit  in  all  interpretations  of  religion.  Indeed,  if  the 
signs  of  the  times  are  to  be  trusted,  may  we  not  suggest 
that  the  more  dynamic  and  vaguer  idea  will  outlive  its  more 
precise  and  static  companion?^ 


'A  concwe  formulation  of  the  relation  of  the  idea  of  mana  to  religion, 
magic  and  animism,  will  be  found  in  my  article  "Spirit,  mana  and  the  Re- 
ligious Thrill,"  Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology  and  Scientific  Methods, 
Vol.  XII,  1915.  There  also  an  attempt  is  made  to  show  that  from  a  psy- 
chological and  epistomological  standpoint,  mana  must  be  regarded  as  a  pro- 
jection or  objectivation  of  what,  on  the  subjective  side,  is  the  religious 
thrill.  Now,  if  the  religious  thrill  is  the  fundamental  emotional  root  of 
religion,  then  mana — not  Melanesian  mana,  nor  manitou,  nor  orenda,  nor 
loakan,  but  a  psychologically  more  basic  mana,  freed  from  all  historic 
accretions — becomes  the  fundamental  idea  of  religion,  the  pure  idea  of 
supernatural  power,  an  idea  which,  in  the  very  naturq  of  the  case,  is  more 
sensed  than  thought 


CHAPTER     XI 

RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  (Continued) 

Anthropomorphism  and  the  Higher  Gods 
Chukchee  Supernaturalism 

In  the  world  view  of  the  Chukchee  all  nature  is  animated. 
Every  material  object  can  act,  speak  and  walk.  Every- 
thing that  exists  has  its  own  "voice"  or  "master."  Rein- 
deer skins  have  a  "master"  of  their  own.  In  the  night-time 
they  turn  into  reindeer  and  walk  to  and  fro.  The  trees  in 
the  woods  talk  to  one  another.  The  very  shadows  on  the 
wall  live  in  tribes  in  their  own  country  where  they  have 
huts  and  subsist  by  hunting. 

Special  beliefs  are  entertained  about  mushrooms  and 
mushroom-men.  Mushrooms,  when  they  grow  up,  are  so 
powerful  that  they  split  whole  trees.  These  mushrooms  ap- 
pear to  intoxicated  men  in  the  shape  of  human  beings,  re- 
sembling, however,  their  real  shapes  in  some  particular. 
Thus,  one  may  have  but  one  leg,  another  a  very  large  head, 
and  so  on.  The  number  of  mushrooms  that  appear  to  a 
man  varies  in  accordance  with  the  number  of  mushrooms 
he  has  eaten.  The  mushroom-men  lead  the  dreamer  through 
the  world  and  show  him  real  and  imaginary  things.  They 
take  him  to  the  places  where  the  dead  live,  through  which 
they  travel  along  many  intricate  paths. 

Wooden  amulets  in  a  bag  become  herdsmen  and  go  out 
at  night  to  protect  the  herd  from  wolves.  Black  and  polar 
bears,  eagles,  small  birds,  sea  mammals,  all  have  countries 
of  their  own  and  live  like  humans.  They  can  turn  into 
human  beings  while  preserving  some  of  their  own  qualities. 
Mice  people  live  in  underground  houses,  using  a  certain  root 
as  their  reindeer.  They  have  sledges  made  of  grass.  Off 
and  on  they  become  transformed  into  real  hunters  with 
regular  sledges  and  hunt  polar  bears. 

202 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  203 

According  to  one  story,  a  dried  skin  of  an  ermine  trans- 
formed itself  into  a  real  ermine,  which  later  turned  into  a 
large  polar  bear. 

Boulders  are  regarded  as  petrified  creatures.  They  rep- 
resent the  first  attempt  of  the  Creator  to  make  man.  As 
they  were  very  clumsy,  he  transformed  them  into  stones. 
After  this,  animals  and  man  were  created. 

Forests,  rivers  and  lakes  have  their  own  "masters" ;  also, 
various  classes  of  animals  and  of  trees,  which  therefore 
cannot  be  handled  without  special  precautions.  The  only  ex- 
ception among  trees  is  the  birch  which  men  handle  as  their 
"equal."  Sledges,  shafts  of  spears,  and  the  like  are  made 
of  birch  wood.  Native  sketches  of  spirits  collected  by 
Bogoras  show  that  these  resemble  to  a  degree  the  animals 
to  which  they  belong.  Thus,  the  master  of  fish  and  of  moun- 
tain brooks  has  a  long  thin  body  and  a  face  covered  with 
hair.  The  master  of  the  forest  has  a  body  of  wood  with- 
out arms  or  legs,  his  eyes  are  on  the  crown  of  his  head  and 
he  rolls  along  like  a  log  of  wood. 

Picvucin^  is  an  especially  important  owner  or  master  of 
wild  reindeer  and  of  all  land  game.  He  lives  in  deep  ravines 
[or  stays  near  the  forest  border.  He  sends  reindeer  herds 
to  the  hunters ;  but  when  he  is  angry  he  withholds  the  sup- 
ply. He  demands  strict  performance  of  all  ancient  customs 
and  sacrifices  connected  with  the  hunt.  Any  neglect  of  these 
angers  him.  In  size  he  is  represented  not  larger  than  a 
man's  finger,  while  his  footprints  on  the  snow  are  like  those 
of  a  mouse.  According  to  the  beliefs  of  the  Maritime 
Chukchee,  Picvucin  has  power  over  sea-game  also.  Some 
times  one  may  see  him  passing  the  door  of  a  house  in  the 
shape  of  a  small  black  pup,  but  an  inspection  of  his  foot- 
prints, which  look  like  those  of  a  mouse,  will  reveal  his 
identity.  As  soon  as  this  is  discovered,  the  people  offer 
him  a  sacrifice,  believing  that  next  year  a  large  whale  will 
be  drifted  to  that  part  of  the  house.  Picvucin's  sledge  is 
very  small  and  is  made  of  grass.    Instead  of  a  reindeer,  he 

'C  pronounced  tch. 


204  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

drives  a  mouse,  or  a  certain  small  root.  In  fact,  he  him- 
self is  sometimes  represented  as  that  root,  driving  a  mouse. 
The  lemming  is  his  polar  bear.  He  kills  it  and  loads  it  on 
his  sledge.  On  the  other  hand,  he  is  believed  to  be  very 
strong,  can  wrestle  with  giants  and,  on  occasion,  he  can  load 
a  real  polar  bear  on  his  sledge.  He  takes  no  solid  food, 
living  on  odors. 

Three  classes  of  spirits,  called  kelet,  are  especially  prom- 
inent in  Chukchee  belief:  i,  evil  spirits  that  walk  invisibly, 
bringing  disease  and  death;  they  prey  on  human  bodies  and 
souls;  2,  blood-thirsty  cannibals  who  live  on  distant  shores 
and  fight  Chukchee  warriors;  and  3,  spirits  that  are  at  the 
call  of  shamans  and  help  them  in  their  magic. 

Among  the  spirits  of  the  first  variety  are  the  ground 
spirits.  They  have  the  forms  of  different  creatures,  such 
as  fish,  dog,  bird,  fox,  insect,  but  are  very  small.  In  propor- 
tion to  their  size,  they  always  have  a  very  large  mouth,  set 
with  many  strong  teeth.  The  kelet  do  not  like  to  stay  in 
their  own  villages.  They  prefer  to  visit  human  habitations, 
and  are  believed  to  be  constantly  wandering  about  in  search 
of  human  prey.  On  the  other  hand,  they  live  like  human 
beings  and  are  considered  a  tribe  by  themselves.  They  have 
villages  and  camps  and  travel  about  the  country  with  rein- 
deer and  dogs.  They  marry  and  have  children.  Their 
young  boys  and  girls  go  hunting  and  fishing  while  the  old 
men  sit  at  home  and  try  to  read  the  future  by  the  aid  of 
divining  stones.  They  always  hunt  man,  whom  they  call 
"a  little  seal."  Their  divining  stone  is  a  human  skull,  while 
men  often  use  animal  skulls  for  that  purpose. 

If  the  kelet  can  catch  a  human  soul,  they  chop  it  to  pieces, 
cook  it  in  a  kettle  and  feed  it  to  their  children.  The  kelet 
and  the  shamans  are  hostile  to  each  other.  In  their  en- 
counters, victory  does  not  always  rest  with  the  kelet.  Ani- 
mals of  peculiar  form  are  sacrificed  to  the  kelet,  such  as 
reindeer  with  unusual  antlers,  white  reindeer  with  black 
ear  points,  or  new  born  fawns  with  misshapen  mouths. 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  205 

The  Chukchee  do  not  know  of  death  by  natural  means. 
When  a  man  dies,  he  is  supposed  to  be  killed  either  by 
spirits  or  by  an  evil  shaman  by  means  of  charms. 

The  second  variety  of  supernatural  creatures  are  the 
giants,  who  live  on  earth  but  always  far  removed  from  hu- 
man habitations.  They  are  always  represented  as  very  poor. 
They  can  be  fought  with  ordinary  means. 

The  third  variety  of  spirits  are  those  that  appear  to 
shamans.  At  shamanistic  performances  they  usually  figure 
as  the  "spirit  voices"  of  the  shaman,  which  the  latter  pro- 
duces by  means  of  ventriloquism.  As  shamanistic  spirits 
may  appear  wolves,  reindeer,  walrus,  whales,  birds,  plants, 
icebergs,  utensils,  pots,  needles  and  needle-cases.  The 
shamanistic  spirits  are  very  mean  to  the  shaman.  They 
punish  him  for  irregularities.  On  the  other  hand,  if  his 
behavior  is  unobjectionable,  they  are  always  at  his  call. 
Also:  the  shamanistic  spirits  constantly  quarrel  with  each 
other  and  he  has  to  reconcile  them. 

The  Chukchee  personify  the  "directions"  of  the  com- 
pass, of  which  they  recognize  twenty-two,  including  the 
Zenith  and  Nadir.  Of  these,  the  Mid-day  and  the  Dawn 
are  the  most  important,  and  to  them  most  of  the  sacrifices 
are  made. 

The  sun,  moon  and  stars  are  also  conceived  as  men  of 
different  kinds. 

The  Chukchee  believe  in  a  number  of  indefinite  beings 
whose  character  and  shape  are  but  vaguely  defined.  Among 
these  are  the  Creator,  the  Upper  Being,  the  World,  the 
Merciful  Being,  the  Life-giving  Being  and  the  Luck-giving 
Being.^  The  Zenith,  the  Mid-day,  the  Dawn,  are  also 
often  considered  identical  with  the  creator  of  the  world. 
Among  the  baptized  Chukchee,  the  Christian  God  has  a 

*Bogoras  believes  that  these  vague  deities  represent  an  indefinite  trans- 
formation of  the  creative  principle  of  the  world  and  may  be  compared  to 
the  manitou  or  ivakan  of  the  American  Indians.  On  the  basis  of  Bogoras' 
own  statements  about  these  beings,  this  analogy  seems  doubtful.  Thus  the 
talented  author's  opinion  is  adduced  here  for  what  it  is  worth.  It  may  be 
noted,  in  passing,  that  while  Bogoras  has  but  few  peers  as  an  observer,  his 
interpretations,  most  of  which  are  omitted  here,  are  often  arbitrary. 


2o6  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

place  assigned  to  him  side  by  side  with  these  vague  supe- 
rior beings. 

A  special  group  of  spirits  are  the  house  spirits.  They 
are  regarded  as  permanently  associated  with  the  house, 
their  very  names  being  derived  from  a  stem  meaning  "ab- 
sence of  motion."  The  house  spirits  live  like  the  Chukchee 
themselves.  They  stay  in  pairs  and  have  children.  Their 
children  get  sick  and  die.  When  a  spirit  child  dies,  the 
spirit  may  make  friends  with  another  spirit  and  allow  him 
to  have  relations  with  his  wife,  a  custom  current  among  the 
Chukchee. 

Among  the  many  charms  of  the  Chukchee,  those  of  the 
household  are  of  especial  interest,  and  among  these,  par- 
ticularly the  hearth  itself.  Bogoras'  statement  on  this  sub- 
ject deserves  to  be  quoted  verbatim : 

"The  chief  place  among  the  sacred  things  of  the  house- 
hold belongs  to  the  hearth  itself,  to  the  fire  of  which  a  spark 
is  added  from  each  of  the  hereditary  fire-tools  at  every  cere- 
monial. Each  family  has  a  fire  of  its  own,  and  interchange 
of  fire  is  strictly  prohibited.  Families  whose  fires  are  de- 
rived from  different  lines  of  ancestors,  even  though  living 
for  years  in  the  same  camp,  will  carefully  guard  against  any 
contact  of  their  fires.  To  borrow  a  neighbor's  fire  is  held 
to  be  one  of  the  greatest  sins.  If  a  camp  is  pitched  on  the 
spot  formerly  occupied  by  another  family,  the  Chukchee 
woman,  in  order  to  start  a  new  fire,  will  not  avail  herself  of 
the  coal  or  wood  that  was  left.  Even  when  camped  on  the 
treeless  tundra,  she  will  break  up  the  sledges  for  fire-wood 
rather  than  take  a  single  splinter  bearing  marks  of  an  alien 
fire.  Interchange  of  household  utensils  connected  with  the 
hearth — like  kettles,  dishes,  lamps,  receptacles  for  meat, 
etc. — is  also  strictly  forbidden.  It  is  even  considered  sinful 
to  warm  at  one  hearth  a  piece  of  cold  meat  which  has  been 
boiled  at  another.  All  these  restrictions,  however,  refer 
only  to  the  "genuine  fire,"  obtained  for  a  native  hearth  by 
means  of  a  wooden  drill  and  the  sacred  fire-board." 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  207 

Bella  Coola  Gods 

The  Bella  Coola^  believe  that  the  cosmos  consists  of 
five  worlds,  situated  one  above  the  other.  The  central 
world  is  our  own,  above  it  is  the  first  heaven  and  above 
that  the  second  heaven.  Below  the  earth  lies  the  first  under- 
world, and  below  this,  the  second  underworld. 

In  the  second  or  uppermost  heaven  resides  the  supreme 
deity  of  the  Bella  Coola,  called  "Our  Woman"  or  "Afraid 
of  Nothing."  Although  superior  to  all  the  other  deities, 
she  has  relatively  little  to  do  with  the  fates  of  mankind. 
The  heaven  in  which  she  resides  is  described  as  a  prairie 
without  any  trees.  In  order  to  reach  it,  one  must  go  up  u 
river  which  is  situated  in  the  House  of  the  Gods  in  the 
heaven  below  it.  According  to  another  tradition,  the  upper- 
most heaven  is  reached  through  a  rent  in  the  sky  of  the 
upper  heaven.  The  house  of  "Our  Woman"  stands  in  the 
far  east  and  a  gale  is  continually  blowing  from  the  open 
country  in  front  of  it,  driving  everything  towards  the  en- 
trance of  the  house.  But  near  the  house  itself  there  is  a 
great  calm.  A  post  in  the  shape  of  a  large  winged  monster 
stands  in  front  of  the  house,  which  is  entered  through  the 
monster's  mouth.  Outside  the  door  there  is  gravel  of  three 
colors,  blue,  black  and  white.  Behind  the  house  stretches  a 
salt  water  pond  in  which  the  goddess  bathes.  This  is  the 
dwelling  place  of  Sisiutl,  a  magical  snake  which  sometimes 
descends  to  the  earth.  Wherever  it  moves,  the  rocks  burst 
asunder  and  slide  down  the  sides  of  the  mountain. 

In  the  mythological  period,  "Our  Woman,"  the  great 
goddess,  fought  the  mountains,  which  are  conceived  by  the 
Bella  Coola  as  having  been  people,  giants  of  enormous  size. 
"Our  Woman"  fought  them  successfully  and  reduced  them 
to  real  mountains  and  their  present  proportions. 

In  the  center  of  the  first  heaven  stands  the  House  of  the 


*The  Bella  Coola  speak  a  Salish  language  and  it  can  be  shown  that  they 
have  migrated  to  the  coast  from  the  interior  in  relatively  recent  times.  While 
their  language  has  remained  practically  unaffected  by  their  Kwakiutl  neigh- 
bors, their  culture  has  been  deeply  transformed  by  die  incursions  of  North-- 
west  Coast  customs  and  ideas. 


2o8  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

Gods.  It  is  also  known  as  "The  House  of  Myths"  or 
"Where  Man  Was  Created."  In  front  of  it  is  a  post 
painted  with  representations  of  various  birds.  In  this  house 
lives  the  Sun,  the  supreme  deity  below  "Our  Woman."  The 
Sun  is  referred  to  as  "Our  Father"  or  "The  Sacred  One." 
He  is  the  only  deity  to  whom  the  Bella  Coola  pray.  They 
say  "Take  care  of  us,  father!"  or  "Wipe  your  face,  father  I 
that  it  may  be  fair  weather,"  or  "Make  me  happy,  father  I 
you  have  given  me  too  much  misfortune." 

Offerings  of  food  and  other  articles  are  brought  to  the 
Sun. 

With  the  Sun  is  associated  another  deity  of  equal  rank, 
and  together  they  rule  mankind.  Although  they  are  among 
the  creators,  they  are  represented  as  hostile  to  man  and 
ever  seeking  to  destroy  him. 

Under  these  supreme  deities  there  are  a  number  of  as- 
sistant deities,  some  of  whose  functions  are  associated  with 
the  kusiut,  the  great  ceremonial  of  the  Bella  Coola.  One 
of  the  deities  ordains  the  death  of  man  and  animals,  an- 
other is  charged  with  killing  the  transgressors  of  kusiut 
rules.  Then  there  is  a  supernatural  boy  forever  perform- 
ing kusiut  dances.  Off  and  on  he  is  sent  down  to  earth  with 
new  dances.  Two  of  the  goddesses  always  try  to  inter- 
vene when  the  superior  gods  attempt  to  punish  man. 

Then  there  are  other  deities  who  are  more  directly  con- 
cerned with  the  daily  life  and  activities  of  man  and  of  nature. 

Although  the  Sun  is  the  creator  of  human  beings,  another 
deity  gives  a  child  its  individual  features.  Before  the  chil- 
dren are  born,  a  goddess  places  them  in  a  crude  cradle  and 
rocks  them.  Then  she  sends  them  down  to  earth  to  be  born. 
She  performs  a  similar  function  with  reference  to  animals, 
as  well  as  ordains  that  their  skins  and  flesh  shall  serve  as 
food  and  clothing  for  man. 

Another  female  deity  is  called  "Mother  of  Flowers"  or 
"Going  to  the  Right,"  the  latter  name  having  reference  to 
the  movement  of  the  Sun.  Every  spring  she  gives  birth  to 
all  the  plants  in  the  order  of  their  appearance,  being  as- 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  209 

sisted  by  two  old  women  and  by  a  shaman  who  is  called  in 
by  them. 

While  the  Sun  and  his  supernatural  companion  are  con- 
cerned with  the  fates  of  man,  they  do  not  themselves  inter- 
fere with  his  activities.  This  is  done  by  four  brothers  who 
live  in  an  elevated  room  near  the  House  of  Myths.  One 
of  these  is  called  "The  One  Who  Finishes  His  Work  by 
Chopping  Once,"  the  second  is  called  "The  One  Who  Fin- 
ishes His  Work  by  Rubbing  Once,"  and  the  third  one's  name 
is  "The  One  Who  Finishes  His  Work  by  Cutting  Once." 
The  brothers  are  experts  at  carving  and  painting.  They 
gave  man  the  arts.  They  taught  him  to  build  canoes,  boxes 
and  houses,  to  carve  wood  and  to  paint.  Also,  they  intro- 
duced the  methods  used  in  hunting,  and  some  claim  that  they 
made  the  fish. 

A  goddess,  daughter  of  the  Sun,  taught  man  the  art  of 
working  cedar  bark. 

Besides  these  there  are  nine  brothers  and  a  sister  who 
are  in  special  charge  of  the  kusiut  ceremonial. 

Curious  ideas  are  entertained  about  the  Sun  and  his  rela- 
tion to  the  sky.  At  sunset  there  stands  an  enormous  post 
supporting  the  sky,  which  prevents  the  sun  from  falling  into 
the  lower  world.  The  trail  of  the  sun  is  conceived  as  a 
bridge  which  is  as  broad  as  the  distance  between  the  winter 
and  the  summer  solstices.  The  Sun  walks  with  his  face 
towards  the  west.  In  the  summer  he  walks  on  the  right 
side  of  the  bridge,  in  the  winter,  on  the  left  side,  the  varying 
heights  of  the  Sun  thus  being  accounted  for.  The  extreme 
right  and  left  sides  of  the  bridge  are  called  "the  place  where 
he  sits  down."  Each  of  these  points  is  guarded  by  a  super- 
natural being  whose  duty  it  is  to  see  to  it  that  the  Sun  does 
not  remain  too  long  at  the  solstice.  If  the  Sun  tarries 
too  long  at  the  winter  solstice,  the  people  say,  "Salmon 
will  be  dried  late  this  year."  If  he  leaves  without  delay, 
they  say,  "Soon  we  shall  dry  salmon."  Three  guardians 
accompany  the  Sun,  who  dance  around  him  all  the  time. 
The  Sun's  halo  is  called  "The  Cape  of  Our  Father."     A 


2IO  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

sun-dog  that  appears  west  from  the  Sun  is  called  "The 
Painted  Face  of  Our  Father."  When  he  drops  down  to 
earth  epidemics  occur.  Eclipses  result  from  the  Sun  losing 
his  torch. 

There  are  twenty-four  guardians  whose  duty  it  is  to 
take  care  of  the  sky.  The  sky  must  be  continually  fed  with 
fire  wood.  Once  the  guardians  put  too  much  fire  wood  into 
the  sky  and  it  burst.  All  the  pieces  except  one  fell  down 
to  the  earth.  The  fragments  hit  the  faces  of  the  twenty- 
four  guardians  and  distorted  them.  They  tried  to  mend 
the  sky  but  did  not  succeed ;  then  they  went  down  the  river 
and  came  to  the  four  brothers  whose  assistance  they  asked. 
These  proved  equal  to  the  task.  They  gathered  up  the 
pieces  and  glued  them  together.  The  Sun,  which  up  to 
that  time  had  remained  in  the  east,  now  began  to  move  on 
his  daily  course.  At  that  time  also  the  four  brothers  built 
the  bridge  over  which  the  Sun  travels.  They  placed  a 
wedge  in  the  opening  of  the  sky  into  which  the  twenty-four 
assistants  have  to  put  the  fire  wood.  This  opening  is 
called  "Mouth  Kept  Open  by  Means  of  a  Wedge."  "The 
sky  shall  not  burst  again,"  said  the  four  brothers,  "this 
wedge  shall  keep  its  mouth  open." 

The  earth  itself  is  conceived  as  an  island  floating  upon 
the  ocean.  Below  it  is  the  first  underworld,  which  is 
the  country  of  the  ghosts.  This  is  a  topsy  turvy  world. 
Ghostland  stretches  along  the  banks  of  a  great  river.  Be- 
hind the  village  where  the  ghosts  dwell  there  is  a  hill, 
the  base  of  which  is  covered  with  sharp  stones.  When 
we  have  summer,  it  is  winter  in  ghostland;  when  we  have 
night,  it  is  day  there.  The  ghosts  walk  on  their  heads 
and  their  language  is  different  from  that  spoken  on  earth. 
When  the  souls  reach  the  lower  world  they  receive  new 
names.  In  their  village,  which  is  surrounded  by  a  fence, 
there  is  a  dancing  house  in  which  the  ghosts  perform  the 
kusiut.  The  dancing  house  is  very  large  and  long  and  has 
four  fires.  The  women  sit  on  the  floor  of  the  house,  while 
the  men  sit  on  an  elevated  platform.    Although  the  houses 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  211 

have  doors,  the  ghosts  who  first  reach  the  underworld  enter 
through  the  smoke-hole  by  means  of  a  ladder,  at  the  foot 
of  which  two  men  stand.  Those  who  have  once  entered 
the  dancing  house  may  not  return  to  earth.  Other  souls 
are  sent  back  to  earth  by  the  deities,  to  be  born  again  as 
children  in  the  same  families  from  which  they  came.  The 
souls  who  enjoy  the  life  in  ghostland  die  a  second  death, 
whereupon  they  sink  to  the  second  underworld,  from  which 
there  is  no  return. 

The  All  Father 

During  recent  years  certain  primitive  Ideas  have  been  re- 
ported from  different  fields  of  investigation  which  seem  to 
differ  not  only  from  the  generalized  animistic  beliefs,  but 
also  from  the  more  or  less  highly  anthropomorphised  beings 
of  early  mythologies.  These  ideas  have  usually  been  dis- 
cussed under  the  heading  of  the  All  Father  belief.  Thus,  ac- 
cording to  Strehlow,  the  Aranda  of  Central  Australia  believe 
in  a  great  moral  being,  Aljira,  He  is  eternal  and  is  con- 
ceived as  a  very  large,  strong  man  with  a  red  skin  and 
light  hair,  which  falls  on  his  shoulders.  His  legs  arc 
like  those  of  an  emu.  He  Is  decorated  with  a  white  fore- 
head band,  a  neck  band  and  a  bracelet.  He  also  wears  a 
hair  loin-girdle.  He  has  many  wives,  called  "the  beautiful 
ones,"  who  have  dogs'  legs  and  are  also  red  In  color.  He 
has  many  sons  and  daughters,  the  former  having  emu  legs, 
the  latter,  dogs'  legs.  Handsome  men  and  beautiful  women 
frequent  his  neighborhood. 

He  lives  In  heaven,  which  has  existed  from  the  beginning. 
The  Milky  Way  is  a  Great  River  with  inexhaustible  reser- 
voirs of  sweet  water;  tall  trees,  tasteful  berries  and 
fruits,  abound  here.  Great  flocks  of  birds  enliven  Aljira's 
domain  and  many  animals  such  as  kangaroos,  wild  cats,  and 
the  like,  seek  his  enormous  hunting  grounds.  While  Aljira 
follows  the  game,  his  wives  gather  edible  herbs  and  other 


212  EARLY    CIVILIZATION 

fruit  which  grow  in  abundance  at  all  times  of  the  year. 
The  stars  are  the  camp  fires  of  Aljira. 

Aljira  is  the  great  god  of  the  Aranda.  Women  as  well 
as  men  know  him,  but  his  reign  is  restricted  to  heaven.  He 
has  not  created  man  nor  is  he  concerned  about  him.  No 
churinga  are  consecrated  to  him.  The  Aranda  do  not  fear 
him  nor  do  they  love  him,  but  they  do  fear  that  some  day 
the  heavens  will  collapse  and  kill  them  off.  The  believe 
that  the  sky  rests  upon  piles  or  stone  legs.^ 

What  Strehlow  says  about  Aljira  agrees  fairly  closely 
with  the  accounts  about  the  All  Father  collected  by  Howitt 
among  the  different  tribes  of  Southeastern  Australia. 

Thus,  the  Narrinyeri  believe  in  a  supreme  being  who  is 
said  to  have  made  all  things  on  earth  and  to  have  given 
man  his  weapons  and  taught  him  his  ceremonies.  When  they 
are  asked  about  the  origin  of  any  custom,  they  reply  that  the 
supreme  being  has  instituted  it.  The  Wotjobaluk  as  well 
as  the  Kulin  speak  of  Bunjil,  who  is  represented  as  an  old 
man.  He  is  the  heavenly  headman  of  the  tribe  and  has 
two  wives  and  a  son,  the  rainbow,  whose  wife  is  the  second 
rainbow,  which  is  sometimes  faintly  visible.  He  is  believed 
to  have  given  the  Kulin  the  arts  and,  according  to  at 
least  one  legend,  he  instituted  the  phratries  and  originated 
the  law  of  exogamy.  Howitt  is  careful  to  point  out  that 
the  All  Father  among  these  tribes  is  endowed  with  distinctly 
huma  nrather  than  animal  traits. 

Among  the  Kurnai  the  knowledge  of  the  supreme  being 
is  almost  entirely  restricted  to  the  initiated  men,  although 
the  old  women  know  at  least  of  the  existence  of  this  being. 
The  novices  are  told  all  about  the  All  Father  at  the  last 
and  most  sacred  session  of  the  initiation  ceremonies.  At 
this  time  they  learn  that  he  lived  on  earth  long  ago  and 
taught  the  Kurnai  how  to  make  implements,  nets,  canoes 
and  weapons.     Individual  names  which  the  people  have 


^This  presentation  of  the  Aljira  belief  is  based  on  C.  Strehlow's  "Die 
Aranda-  Und  Loritjastamnae  in  Zentral-Australien,"  Part  I  (Frankfurt  am 
Main.  1907). 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  213 

from  their  ancestors,  were  first  given  by  the  supreme  being. 
He  also  instituted  the  secret  ceremonies.  When  some  one 
revealed  the  secret  of  these  ceremonies  to  the  women,  the 
wrath  of  the  supreme  being  was  aroused  and  in  revenge  he 
sent  down  his  fire,  the  Aurora  Australis,  which  filled  the 
whole  space  between  the  earth  and  the  sky.  Men  went  mad 
with  fear  and  speared  each  other,  brothers  killing  brothers, 
fathers  their  children  and  husbands  their  wives.  Then  the 
sea  rushed  over  the  land  and  nearly  all  mankind  was 
drowned.  Some  of  those  who  survived  became  the  ances- 
tors of  the  Kurnai,  while  some  turned  into  animals,  birds, 
reptiles  and  fish.  Tundun,  the  son  of  the  supreme  being, 
and  his  wife  became  porpoises.  Then  the  supreme  being 
left  the  earth  and  ascended  the  sky,  where  he  still  resides. 

All  the  tribes  which  attend  the  kuringal  ceremonies  of 
the  Yuin  people  believe  in  the  great  being,  Dara-Mulun,  who 
once  lived  on  earth  with  his  mother.  At  first,  the  earth 
was  bare,  and  "like  the  sky,  as  hard  as  a  stone."  The  land 
extended  over  where  the  sea  is  now.  There  were  as  yet 
no  men  or  women,  but  only  animals,  birds  and  reptiles. 
Dara-Mulun  made  the  trees.  Then  he  caused  a  great  flood 
which  covered  the  entire  coast  country,  so  that  no  people 
were  left  except  some  who  crawled  out  of  the  water  on  to 
Mount  Dromedary.  Then  Dara-Mulun  went  up  to  the  sky 
where  he  still  lives,  watching  the  actions  of  men.  He  made 
the  bull-roarer,  the  sound  of  which  is  still  believed  to  be  his 
voice.  He  also  gave  the  Yuin  their  laws,  which  ever  since 
have  been  handed  down  by  the  old  men.  When  the  spirits 
of  dead  men  leave  them,  Dara-Mulun  meets  them  and  takes 
care  of  them. 

Upon  a  rough  inspection  of  these  beliefs,  It  will  occur 
to  any  one  that  missionary  influence  had  something  to  do 
with  their  origination.  Some  features  in  connection  with 
the  flood,  the  moral  character  of  the  supreme  being  and 
other  traits,  strongly  suggest  the  influence  of  white  teachers. 
The  problem,  however,  cannot  be  settled  so  easily,  for  be- 
liefs In  supreme  beings  such  as  here  described  occur  also 


214  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

among  other  tribes,  for  instance,  among  some  of  the  Negro 
peoples  of  the  Gold  Coast  of  West  Africa.  The  idea  also 
seems  to  be  present  in  Northwestern  America  and  North- 
eastern Siberia.  It  is  especially  notable  that  the  supreme 
being  is  often  conceived  as  remote  and  detached  from  the 
affairs  of  men,  although  in  some  instances  he  is  believed  to 
have  created  them.  Of  all  ideas  about  the  All  Father, 
the  following  two  seem  to  be  the  most  consistent,  the  fact 
that  he  or  she  is  supreme,  superior  to  other  deities,  and  yet 
does  not  now  actually  participate  in  the  affairs  of  man.  The 
contact  of  primitive  tribes  with  civilization  has  everywhere 
been  sufficiently  frequent  or  probable  to  render  the  interpre- 
tation of  the  All  Father  idea  through  borrowing  a  feasible 
one.  But  the  very  wide  geographical  distribution  of  these 
beliefs  makes  one  pause  before  accepting  such  an  interpre- 
tation. It  is,  after  all,  not  psychologically  Impossible  that 
a  more  or  less  vague  idea  of  a  superior  being  should  have 
developed  among  primitive  tribes  fairly  early  on  a  par  with 
animism,  magic  and  other  forms  of  early  belief.  The  entire 
problem  awaits  further  investigation.^ 


The  Individual  in  Religion 
Medicine-men  Among  the  Chukchee  and  Others^ 

Some  family  rituals  of  the  Chukchee  are  In  some  respects 
like  shamanism.     Most  Chukchee  will  from  time  to  time 


*The  problem  of  the  All  Father  should  not  be  confounded  with  that  of 
early  monotheism.  It  will  have  been  noted  that  in  all  of  the  instances  cited 
— and  the  same  is  true  in  many  other  cases — the  All  Father  -was  not  by  any 
means  the  only  supernatural  being  in  the  belief  of  the  people.  Thus  the 
generalization  of  Father  Schmidt  with  reference  to  the  original  monotheism 
of  the  Pygmy  peoples  {Cf.  his  work  "Die  Pygmaenvolker")  must  be  placed 
on  a  distinct  level  from  the  discussions  of  the  All  Father.  A  systematic 
review  of  all  relevant  data,  which  is  now  slightly  out  of  date,  will  be  found 
in  Schmidt's  book  "Die  Enstehung  der  Gottesidee"  (originally  in  French  in 
the  form  of  a  series  of  articles  on  "L'origine  de  I'idee  de  dieu"  in  Anthropos, 
1908-10).  A  critical  discussion  of  the  entire  problem  will  also  be  found 
in  Andrew  Lang's  "The  Making  of  Religion." 

^This  account  of  Chukchee  shamanism  is  based  on  Bogoras'  "The  Chuk- 
chee Religion,"  Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedition,  Vol.  VII. 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  215 

sit  down  in  the  outer  room  with  the  family  drum  and,  while 
drumming  energetically,  sing  songs  and  perhaps  even  try 
to  commune  with  spirits.  In  this  sense  it  can  be  said  that 
many  people  act  as  shamans.  The  real  shamanistic  perfor- 
mances, however,  always  take  place  in  the  sleeping  room  at 
night  and  in  the  darkness. 

Shamans  among  the  Chukchee  are  essentially  "those  with 
spirits."  Both  men  and  women  may  be  shamans.  It  is,  in 
fact,  probable  that  true  shamanism  is  more  common  among 
women  than  among  men,  but  the  higher  grades  of  shamanis- 
tic powers  and  performances  are  restricted  to  men.  The 
bearing  of  children  is  believed  to  be  bad  for  shamanistic 
power.  Indeed,  anything  connected  with  birth  has  an  evil 
effect  on  shamanism,  and  may  thus  affect  also  the  powers  of 
men.  However,  there  is  only  one  feature,  ventriloquism, 
which  is  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  women  shamans. 

True  shamans  among  the  Chukchee,  as  in  Northeastern 
Siberia  generally,  are  people  of  a  distinct  psychic  caste. 
"The  shamans  among  the  Chukchee  with  whom  I  con- 
versed," writes  Bogoras,  "were  as  a  rule  extremely  excit- 
able, almost  hysterical,  and  not  a  few  of  them  were  half 
crazy.    Their  cunning  resembled  the  cunning  of  a  lunatic."* 

The  future  shaman  may  be  discerned  at  an  early  age. 
His  gaze  is  directed  into  space,  and  his  eyes  are  unusually 
bright.  This  is  why,  it  is  claimed,  the  shamans  can  see 
spirits  in  the  dark.  During  the  shamanistic  performances, 
the  shaman  is  extremely  sensitive  ("bashful") .  He  is  afraid 
of  strange  people  and  things,  shrinks  from  ridicule  and  criti- 
cism. The  spirits  themselves  are  also  believed  to  be  "bash- 
ful," unless  the  audience  is  such  as  to  favor  their  appear- 
ance. 

Bogoras  states,  in  agreement  with  many  of  his  prede- 
cessors in  Siberian  ethnology,  that  this  hyper-sensitiveness 
is  characteristic  of  the  entire  area.  Even  the  Russian  Cre- 
oles are  not  immune  from  it.  Men  of  the  latter  class  have 
been  known  to  die  when  threatened  or  when  their  death  was 

^Ibid.,  p.  415. 


2i6  EARLY  CIVILIZATION 

foretold  in  a  dream.  While  disharmony  with  the  kelet 
may  readily  result  in  the  death  of  a  shaman,  he  is  normally 
regarded  as  very  tough.  Thus  the  shaman  under  certain 
conditions  is  "soft  to  die,"  although  he  is  otherwise  "hard 
to  kill." 

When  the  call  to  shamanism  comes  to  a  young  boy,  spirits 
appear  to  him,  strange  objects  lie  across  his  path,  of  which 
he  makes  amulets,  and  the  like.  For  a  considerable  time  he 
may  manifest  great  resistance,  for  persons  do  not  usually 
want  to  become  shamans.^  When  the  youth  has  finally  be- 
come a  shaman  and  has  practiced  for  a  number  of  years,  he 
may  then  discard  his  art  without  fear  of  angering  the 
spirits. 

The  "gathering  of  shamanistic  powers"  is  a  prolonged 
and  laborious  task: 

"For  men,  the  preparatory  stage  of  shamanistic  inspira- 
tion is  in  most  cases  very  painful,  and  extends  over  a  long 
time.  The  call  comes  in  an  abrupt  and  obscure  manner, 
leaving  the  young  novice  in  much  uncertainty  regarding  it. 
He  feels  'bashful'  and  frightened;  he  doubts  his  own  dis- 
position and  strength,  as  has  been  the  case  with  all  seers, 
from  Moses  down.  Half  unconsciously  and  half  against  his 
own  will,  his  whole  soul  undergoes  a  strange  and  painful 
transformation.  This  period  may  last  months,  and  some- 
times even  years.  The  young  novice,  the  'newly  inspired' 
loses  all  interest  in  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life.  He  ceases 
to  work,  eats  but  little  and  without  relishing  the  food,  ceases 
to  talk  to  people,  and  does  not  even  answer  their  questions. 
The  greater  part  of  his  time  he  spends  in  sleep. 

"Some  keep  to  the  inner  room  and  go  out  but  rarely.  Oth- 
ers wander  about  in  the  wilderness,  under  the  pretext  of 
hunting  or  of  keeping  watch  over  the  herd,  but  often  without 
taking  along  any  arms  or  the  lasso  of  the  herdsman.  A 
wanderer  like  this,  however,  must  be  closely  watched,  other- 
wise he  might  lie  down  on  the  open  tundra  and  sleep  for 

^This  attitude  contrasts  strikingly  with  the  frantic  zeal  displayed  by  the 
searchers  for  visions  and  guardian  spirits  in  North  America. 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  217 

three  or  four  days,  incurring  the  danger,  in  winter,  of  being 
buried  in  drifting  snow."^ 

Hard  as  is  the  shamanistic  initiation,  it  must  at  least  in 
part  be  gone  over  again  before  each  performance.  Nor 
may  the  shaman  resist  the  call;  when  the  inspiration  is  upon 
him,  he  must  practice.  Should  he  resist,  his  suffering  be- 
comes acute.  He  may  sweat  blood,  and  his  state  becomes 
that  of  a  madman,  reminding  one  of  epilepsy. 

As  shamanistic  perfomances  require  considerable  physical 
exertions,  shamanism  is  on  the  whole  a  young  man's  pro- 
fession, and  when  a  man  reaches  the  age  of  forty,  he  will 
usually  lay  down  his  art,  sometimes  by  passing  it  on  to 
another.  This  is  achieved  by  blowing  into  the  eyes  or 
mouth  of  the  novitiate  or  by  stabbing  oneself  and  then  the 
latter  with  a  knife.  Whatever  the  novitiate  wins  in  power 
is  lost  by  the  shaman,  and  this  loss  is  irretrievable. 

Even  the  beating  of  the  drum,  a  constant  accompaniment 
of  every  shamanistic  performance,  requires  skill  and  physical 
endurance.  The  same  applies  to  the  capacity  of  passing 
rapidly  from  a  state  of  frantic  excitation  to  one  of  normal 
quiescence.  All  this  can  only  be  acquired  through  prolonged 
and  persistent  practice. 

While  the  typical  Chukchee  shaman  is  a  neurotic,  sha- 
mans occur  whose  psychic  mould  is  very  different.  Thus 
Bogoras  refers  to  a  shaman  who  was  "a  good-looking,  well- 
proportioned  man  of  rather  quiet  manners,  though  an  ill- 
advised  word  might  throw  him  into  intense  excitement.  He 
excelled  in  shamanistic  devices  which  apparently  required 
great  physical  strength  and  dexterity.  At  the  same  time, 
however,  he  declared  that  he  did  not  consider  himself  a 
shaman  of  a  high  order,  and  that  his  relations  with  the 
'spirits'  must  not  be  taken  very  seriously.  To  explain  this 
he  said  that  when  he  was  young  he  suffered  severely  from 
syphilis.  To  heal  himself,  he  had  recourse  to  spirits,  and 
after  two  years,  when  he  had  become  skillful  in  shamanistic 
practices,  he  was  completely  restored  by  their  help.     After 

^Ibid.,  p.  420. 


21 8  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

that  he  maintained  intercourse  with  the  kelet  for  several 
years,  and  was  on  the  point  of  becoming  a  really  great 
shaman.  Then  suddenly  his  luck  was  gone.  One  of  his 
dogs  bore  two  black  pups;  and  when  he  saw  them  both  sit- 
ting side  by  side  on  their  haunches,  looking  into  his  face, 
he  took  it  as  a  sign  that  the  time  had  come  for  him  to  with- 
draw from  shamanistic  practices.  He  suffered  a  relapse 
of  his  illness,  and  his  herd  was  visited  by  hoof-disease. 
Fearing  that  worse  things  might  happen,  he  dropped  all  seri- 
ous pursuits  of  shamanism,  and  practised  only  the  tricks, 
which  were  completely  harmless.  As  far  as  I  could  learn, 
he  had  been  a  magician  employing  especially  the  powers  of 
evil,  or  practising  the  black  art;  and  after  the  return  of  his 
disease,  he  abandoned  those  practices,  considering  them 
detrimental  to  his  health  and  well-being."^ 

That  the  shamans  practice  deceit  in  the  course  of  their 
performances  is  obvious  enough.  Not  infrequently,  in  fact, 
it  is  observed  even  by  the  native  audience,  but  the  general 
disposition  to  countenance  and  endorse  shamanism,  sup- 
ported as  it  is  by  a  traditional  background,  overcomes  those 
occasional  moments  of  scepticism.  The  shamans  are  al- 
ways compensated  for  their  services  by  presents  of  meat, 
thongs,  skins,  garments,  living  reindeer  or  "alien  food." 
"Shamanistic  advice  or  treatment,"  says  the  native  prac- 
titioner, "when  given  gratuitously,  amounts  to  nothing."* 

The  most  common  aims  pursued  at  a  shamanistic  per- 
formance is  the  cure  of  a  patient  through  the  invocation  of 
advice  from  spirits  or  the  bringing  back  of  a  patient's  soul 
abducted  by  hostile  spirits,  or  the  foretelling  of  future  events 
after  consultation  with  the  same  source. 

The  following  is  a  description  of  a  typical  shamanistic 
performance : 

"After  the  evening  meal  is  finished  and  the  kettles  and 


^Ibid.,  pp.  428-429. 

"This  reminds  one  of  the  attitude  of  modern  psychoanalysts  who  insist 
on  the  therapeutic  value  of  the  financial  sacrifice  made  by  the  patient. 
(N.  B.  This  statement  should  not  be  misinterpreted,  for  there  is  a  real 
ptychological  element  involved.) 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  219 

trays  are  removed  to  the  outer  tent,  all  the  people  who  wish 
to  be  present  at  the  seance  enter  the  inner  room,  which  is 
carefully  closed  for  the  night.  Among  the  Reindeer  Chuk- 
chee,  the  inner  room  is  especially  small,  and  its  narrow  space 
causes  much  inconvenience  to  the  audience,  which  is  packed 
together  in  a  tight  and  most  uncomfortable  manner.  The 
Maritime  Chukchee  have  more  room,  and  may  listen  to  the 
voices  of  the  spirits  with  more  ease  and  freedom.  The 
shaman  sits  on  the  'master's  place'  near  the  back  wall ;  and 
even  in  the  most  limited  sleeping-room,  some  free  space  must 
be  left  around  him.  The  drum  is  carefuly  looked  over,  its 
head  tightened,  and,  if  it  is  much  shrunken,  it  is  moistened 
with  urine  and  hung  up  for  a  short  time  over  the  lamp  to 
dry.  The  shaman  sometimes  occupies  more  than  an  hour 
in  this  process,  before  he  is  satisfied  with  the  drum.  To 
have  more  freedom  in  his  movements,  the  shaman  usually 
takes  off  his  fur  shirt,  and  remains  quite  naked  down  to  the 
waist.  He  often  removes  also  his  shoes  and  stockings, 
which  of  course  gives  free  play  to  his  feet  and  toes. 

"In  olden  times,  shamans  used  no  stimulants;  but  at  pres- 
ent they  often  smoke  a  pipeful  of  strong  tobacco  without 
admixture  of  wood,  which  certainly  works  like  a  strong  nar- 
cotic. This  habit  is  copied  from  the  Tungus  shamans,  who 
make  great  use  of  unmixed  tobacco  as  a  powerful  stimu- 
lant. 

"At  last  the  light  is  put  out  and  the  shaman  begins  to 
operate.  He  beats  the  drum  and  sings  his  introductory 
tunes,  at  first  in  a  low  voice;  then  gradually  his  voice  in- 
creases in  volume,  and  soon  it  fills  the  small  closed-up  room 
with  its  violent  clamor.  The  narrow  walls  resound  in  all 
directions. 

"Moreover,  the  shaman  uses  his  drum  for  modifying  his 
voice,  now  placing  it  directly  before  his  mouth,  now  turn- 
ing it  at  an  oblique  angle,  and  all  the  time  beating  it  violently. 
After  a  few  minutes,  all  this  noise  begins  to  work  strangely 
on  the  listeners,  who  are  crouching  down,  squeezed  together 
in  a  most  uncomfortable  position.    They  begin  to  lose  the 


220  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

power  to  locate  the  source  of  the  sounds ;  and,  almost  with- 
out any  effort  of  imagination,  the  song  and  the  drum  seem 
to  shift  from  corner  to  corner,  or  even  to  move  about  with- 
out having  any  definite  place  at  all. 

"The  shaman's  songs  have  no  words.  Their  music  is 
mostly  simple,  and  consists  of  one  short  phrase  repeated 
again  and  again.  After  repeating  it  many  times,  the  shaman 
breaks  off,  and  utters  a  series  of  long-drawn,  hysterical  sighs, 
which  sound  something  like  'Ah,  ya,  ka,  ya,  ka,  ya,  ka  1' 
After  that,  he  comes  back  to  his  songs.  For  this  he  draws 
his  breath  as  deep  as  possible  in  order  to  have  more  air  in 
his  lungs,  and  to  make  the  first  note  the  longest. 

"Some  of  the  tunes,  however,  are  more  varied,  and  are 
not  devoid  of  a  certain  grace.  Not  a  few  are  improvised 
by  the  shaman  on  the  spot ;  others  are  repeated  from  seance 
to  seance.  Each  shaman  has  several  songs  of  his  own, 
which  are  well  known  to  the  people;  so  that  if  anybody 
uses  one  of  them,  for  instance  at  a  ceremonial,  the  listeners 
recognize  it  immediately,  and  say  that  such  and  such  a  man 
is  using  the  particular  song  of  such  and  such  a  shaman. 

"There  is  no  definite  order  for  the  succession  of  the  songs, 
and  the  shaman  changes  them  at  will,  sometimes  even  re- 
turning to  the  first  one  after  a  considerable  interval  has 
elapsed.  This  introductory  singing  lasts  from  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  to  half  an  hour  or  more,  after  which  the  kelet  make 
their  first  appearance." 

While  the  shaman  does  all  the  singing,  he  expects  some 
one  from  the  audience  to  support  him  by  means  of  a  series 
of  interjections.  Without  such  "answering  calls",  "a  Chuk- 
chee  shaman  considers  himself  unable  to  perform  his  calling 
in  a  proper  way;  therefore  novices,  while  trying  to  learn 
the  shamanistic  practices,  usually  induce  a  brother  or  a 
sister  to  respond,  thus  encouraging  the  zeal  of  the  per- 
former. Some  shamans  also  require  those  people  who  claim 
their  advice  or  treatment  to  give  them  answering  calls  dur- 
ing the  particular  part  of  the  performance  which  refers  to 
their  affairs.    The  story-tellers  of  the  Chukchee  also  usually 


RELIGION  AND   MAGIC  221 

claim  the  assistance  of  their  listeners,  who  must  call  out 
the  same  exclamations. 

"Among  the  Asiatic  Eskimo,  the  wife  and  other  members 
of  the  family  form  a  kind  of  chorus,  which  from  time  to 
time  catches  up  the  tune  and  sings  with  the  shaman.  Among 
the  Russianized  Yukaghir  of  the  lower  Kolyma  the  wife 
Is  also  the  assistant  of  her  shaman  husband,  and  during  the 
performance  she  gives  him  encouraging  answers,  and  he  ad- 
dresses her  as  his  'supporting  staff.' 

"In  most  cases  the  kelet  begin  by  entering  the  body  of  the 
shaman.  This  is  marked  with  some  change  in  his  manner 
of  beating  the  drum,  which  becomes  faster  and  more  vio- 
lent; but  the  chief  mark  is  a  series  of  new  sounds,  supposed 
to  be  peculiar  to  the  kelet.  The  shaman  shakes  his  head 
violently,  producing  with  his  lips  a  peculiar  chattering  noise, 
not  unlike  a  man  who  is  shivering  with  cold.  He  shouts 
hysterically,  and  in  a  changed  voice  utters  strange,  pro- 
longed shrieks,  such  as  'O  to,  to,  to,  to,'  or  'I  pi,  pi,  pi,  pi' 
all  of  which  are  supposed  to  characterize  the  voice  of  the 
kelet.  He  often  imitates  the  cries  of  various  animals  and 
birds  which  are  supposed  to  be  his  particular  assistants.  If 
the  shaman  is  only  a  'single-bodied'  one — that  is,  has  no 
ventriloquistic  power — the  kelet  will  proceed  to  sing  and 
beat  the  drum  by  means  of  his  body.  The  only  difference 
will  be  in  the  timbre  of  the  voice,  which  will  sound  harsh  and 
unnatural,  as  becomes  supernatural  beings."^ 

The  traits  characteristic  of  Chukchee  shamans  are 
shared  by  them,  often  to  a  striking  degree,  with  the  Koryak, 
Kamchadal  and  Yukaghir.  More  remotely  the  Chukchee 
shaman  is  related  culturally  to  the  angakut  of  the  Eskimo 
and  the  shamans  of  the  Northwest  Coast. 

Medicine-men  are,  of  course,  ubiquitous  in  the  primitive 
world,  but  in  other  localities  their  traits  are  only  in  part 
like  those  of  the  magic  working  practitioner  of  the  peoples 
of  Northeastern  Siberia  and  of  northwestern  and  northern 
North  America.     According  to  Koch-Griinberg,  men  and 

^Ibid.,  pp.  433-435- 


222  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

women  practictioners  occur  among  the  Guana,  Tuppi-Ymba 
and  Yekuana.  Among  the  Chiriguama  and  many  other 
tribes  studied  by  Nordenskiold,  both  men  and  women  prac- 
titioners have  a  "comrade"  in  the  other  world  who  helps 
them  in  their  profession.  The  "comrades"  of  men  are 
women,  those  of  women,  men.  Both  Dobrizhoffer  and 
Hyades-Deniker  state  that  old  women  are  often  held  re- 
sponsible for  deaths.  According  to  the  same  authors,  defi- 
nite separation  does  not  always  exist  between  the  offices  of 
chief  and  medicine-man,  at  least  to  the  extent  that  some  of 
the  prominent  chiefs  were  also  known  as  medicine-men.  In 
his  work  on  the  Arawak-speaking  peoples.  Max  Schmidt 
refers  to  some  traits  on  the  basis  of  which  boys  were  se- 
lected for  the  profession  of  medicine-men.  Among  others, 
he  mentions  epilepsy,  various  physical  peculiarities,  such 
as  hemorrhages  of  the  breast,  and  general  nervousness. 
Payments  for  the  services  of  medicine-men  are  referred  to 
constantly.  This  trait  thus  seems  to  be  as  common  as  it  is 
in  Northeastern  Siberia.  In  some  instances,  medicine-men 
belonging  to  a  different  tribe  or  even  to  a  different  village 
occupied  by  the  same  tribe  are  regarded  as  evil,  whereas 
the  practitioners  of  one  tribe  and  village  are  thought  help- 
ful and  benevolent.^ 

In  some  South  American  tribes  the  profession  of  a  med- 
icine-man requires  long  preparation,  sometimes  extending 
over  months  or  even  years.  Enforced  fasting  and  various 
forms  of  self  castigation  are  common  characteristics  of  the 
period  of  apprenticeship.  Some  of  the  things  the  apprentice 
is  expected  to  learn  from  his  expert  preceptors  are  monot- 
onous singing,  ventriloquism,  imitation  of  animal  voices, 
sucking  out  of  poison,  the  habit  of  drinking  narcotics  and 
poisons,  the  swallowing  of  small  animals,  the  swallowing  and 
expectorating  of  small  pebbles  and  pieces  of  wood.    This 

*This  psychologically  plausible  attitude  occurs  frequently  in  different 
parts  of  the  world:  magicians  of  other  tribes  are  either  regarded  as  evil 
or  as  more  powerful.  A  number  of  such  instances  have  been  recorded  in 
Australia,  and  in  North  America  the  Haida,  at  least,  show  an  extraordinary 
respect  for  the  shamans  of  the  Tlingit. 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  223 

list  reminds  one  forcibly  of  the  professional  accomplish- 
ments of  the  shamans  of  Northeastern  Siberia.     It  is,  of 
course,  clear  that  here  also  a  modicum  of  deceit  is  an  essen- 
tial ingredient  of   the  medicine-man's   equipment.     Thus, 
Von  den  Steinen  states  about  the  Bororo  healers  that  when 
they  have  foretold  the  death  of  a  sick  child,  they  do  not 
hesitate  to  help  matters  along  by  strangling  it  with  a  thread. 
In  Australia  the  medicinal  functions  of  magicians  are  so 
characteristic  that  Howitt,  in  speaking  of  the  southeastern 
district  of  the  continent,  defines  the  medicine-man  as  "one 
who  causes  or  cures  deaths  by  projecting  into  bodies  or  ex- 
tracting from  them,  quartz  crystals,  bone,  wood  or  other 
things."    And  he  continues :   "The  belief  in  magic  in  its  vari- 
ous forms — in  dreams,  omens  and  warnings — is  so  universal 
and  mingles  so  intimately  with  the  daily  life  of  the  aborig- 
ines that  no  one,  not  even  those  who  practice  deceit  them- 
BL  selves,  doubt  the  power  of  other  medicine-men,  or  that  if 
^Kthey  failed  to  effect  their  magical  purpose  the  failure  is  due 
^r  to  an  error  in  the  practice  or  to  the  superior  skill  or  power 
9"  of  some  adverse  practitioner."^ 

The  kunki  or  magicians  of  the  Dieri,  hold  intercourse 
with  supernatural  beings,  and  with  their  assistance  interpret 
dreams  and  reveal  to  people  the  individuals  who  are  re- 
sponsible for  deaths  caused  by  magic.  The  author  relates 
the  case  of  a  magician  who  revived  a  man  who  was  near 
death.  The  magician  went  outside,  caught  the  spirit  of  the 
man  just  as  it  was  going  toward  karalk  (other  world) ,  then, 
laying  down  on  the  half-dead  man,  put  the  spirit  into  him, 
and  thus  brought  him  back  to  life. 

In  other  instances,  knowledge  rather  than  magic  is  opera- 
tive, but  the  spirit  in  which  such  cures  are  taken  by  the 
natives  is  very  much  the  same.  Thus  a  woman  who  was 
bitten  by  a  snake  was  cured  by  her  husband,  who  was  not 
even  a  regular  magician.  In  the  following  way :  he  secured 
a  cord,  tied  it  above  the  knee  of  the  bitten  leg,  twisting  it 
tighter  v/ith  a  stick,  then  he  picked  up  a  quartz  pebble, 

'Howitt,  "Natire  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia,"  p.  356. 


224  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

cracked  it  in  two  and  with  the  sharp  edge  cut  a  circle  right 
around  the  leg,  severing  the  skin,  the  blood  oozed  out,  and 
though  the  woman  became  drowsy  and  ill,  she  gradually 
recovered. 

Among  the  Kurnai  there  is  a  separate  variety  of  harmless 
magicians,  who  go  up  to  the  spirit  world  to  learn  songs  and 
dances,  then  come  back  and  teach  them  to  the  people. 

While  elements  of  somewhat  marked  similarity  must 
have  been  noted  between  the  magical  practitioners  of  North- 
eastern Siberia,  those  of  South  America  and  those  of  Aus- 
tralia, it  must  be  remembered  that  the  general  character  of 
the  individuals  who  engage  in  magical  cures  in  these  areas  is 
not  by  any  means  the  same.  The  shamans  of  Northeastern 
Siberia,  as  well  as  those  of  Arctic  North  America,  are  high- 
strung  and  often  neurotic  individuals.  In  South  America 
this  also  seems  to  be  the  case,  although  by  no  means  as  regu- 
larly or  as  markedly.  The  magicians  of  Australia,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  perfectly  normal  individuals,  amply  pro- 
vided with  commonsense  and  shrewdness.  Their  qualities 
are  more  like  those  of  the  chiefs  and  leaders  in  industrial 
pursuits.  Together  with  the  latter  and  the  old  men  at 
large,  they  guide  the  younger  generation  by  their  example 
and  their  teaching. 


The  Ghost-Dance  Religions  of  the  North  American  Indians 

While  the  psychological  origin  of  religion  can  be  made 
clear  at  least  theoretically,  we  know  next  to  nothing  of  the 
origins  of  religions  as  part  of  primitive  history.  The  only 
mode  of  approach  to  the  problem,  therefore,  is  to  study 
certain  phenomena  of  relatively  recent  occurrence  and  pro- 
ject the  insight  thus  gained  into  the  night  of  the  remote 
past.  In  view  of  this  situation,  the  data  available  on  the 
so-called  Ghost-Dance  Religions  of  the  Indians  are  wel- 
come indeed. 

A  common  cause  of  these  religious  revivals  is  withoot 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  225 

doubt  to  be  sought  in  the  abnormal  conditions  arising  out 
of  the  contact  of  white  man's  civilization  with  the  religious 
and  ethical  traditions  of  the  American  Indians.  The  mode 
of  origin  of  the  spirit  revivals  in  the  different  tribes  is  strik- 
ingly similar,  while  the  irresistible  spread  of  the  revivalist 
activities  from  tribe  to  tribe  presents  an  astounding  picture 
of  religious  receptiveness. 

One  or  two  examples  will  make  clear  just  what  took  place 
in  these  revivals. 
^  The  great  revivalist  prophet,  Smohalla,  was  a  member  of 
a  small  tribe  related  to  the  Nez  Perce  Indians.  The  date  of 
his  birth  falls  between  18 15  and  1820.  After  having  fre- 
quented a  Catholic  mission  among  the  Yakima,  the  youth 
achieved  considerable  renown  as  a  warrior  and  later  as  a 
medicine-man.  As  his  professional  fame  grew,  he  became 
involved  in  an  acrimonious  dispute  with  Moses,  a  rival  med- 
icine-man and  chief  of  a  neighboring  tribe.  The  affair  came 
to  an  open  fight  in  which  Smohalla  was  worsted  and  nearly 
killed.  However,  he  managed  to  drag  himself  to  a  boat  and 
was  carried  down  the  current  of  the  Columbia  River  until 
he  was  picked  up  by  some  white  men. 

His  recovery  was  slow.  When  well  once  more,  he  was 
unwilling  to  return  to  his  people  among  whom  he  knew  he 
was  regarded  as  dead,  so  he  started  on  a  prolonged  period 
of  wanderings.  He  made  his  way  along  the  coast  to  Mexico, 
and  from  there  he  traveled  back  north  through  Arizona 
and  Nevada.  While  on  his  trip  he  began  to  preach  a  new 
doctrine.  He  averred  that  he  had  been  dead  and  had  vis- 
ited the  spirit  world  and  that  now  he  was  preaching  by 
divine  command.  When  he  came  among  the  tribes  that  had 
heard  of  him  before  his  unlucky  fight,  he  was  believed,  for  he 
had  been  thought  dead  and  it  was  known  that  his  body 
had  disappeared.  His  doctrine  consisted  in  a  prophecy  that 
the  early  conditions  of  Indian  life  would  return,  that  the 
buffalo  would  come  back  and  white  man  withdraw  from 
the  land.  There  was  much  Catholic  ritual  in  the  accom- 
panying ceremonies  as  well  as  a  rigid  ethical  code  which 


226  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

had  a  remarkable  effect  on  the  tribes  that  fell  under  its 
sweep. 

Smohalla  knew  well  how  to  enhance  his  prestige  by  such 
little  tricks  as  the  foretelling  of  eclipses.  He  was  enabled 
to  do  this  with  the  help  of  an  almanac  and  some  accompany- 
ing explanations  gleaned  from  a  party  of  surveyors.  This 
particular  trick  almost  cost  him  his  reputation,  however,  as 
he  was  not  able  to  secure  another  almanac,  and  after  the 
expiration  of  the  year  his  astronomical  predictions  came 
to  an  abrupt  conclusion. 

It  is  clear  that  Smohalla  was  subject  to  cataleptic  trances 
and  his  alleged  supernatural  revelations  came  to  him  while  he 
was  lying  prostrate  in  this  unconscious  condition.  The 
slightly  naive  remarks  quoted  by  Mooney  from  MacMurray 
are  of  sufficient  interest  to  be  reproduced  here : 

"He  falls  into  trances  and  lies  rigid  for  considerable 
periods.  Unbelievers  have  experimented  by  sticking  needles 
through  his  flesh,  cutting  him  with  knives,  and  otherwise 
testing  his  sensibility  to  pain,  without  provoking  any  respon- 
sive action.  It  was  asserted  that  he  was  surely  dead,  be- 
cause blood  did  not  flow  from  his  wounds.  These  trances 
always  excite  great  interest  and  often  alarm,  as  he  threatens 
to  abandon  his  earthly  body  altogether  because  of  the  dis- 
obedience of  his  people,  and  on  each  occasion  they  are  in 
a  state  of  suspense  as  to  whether  the  Saghalee  Tyee  will  send 
his  soul  back  to  earth  to  reoccupy  his  body,  or  will,  on  the 
contrary,  abandon  and  leave  them  without  his  guidance. 
It  is  this  going  into  long  trances,  out  of  which  he  comes  as 
from  heavy  sleep  and  almost  immediately  relates  his  expe- 
riences in  the  spirit  land,  that  gave  rise  to  the  title  of 
'Dreamers,'  or  believers  in  dreams,  commonly  given  to  his 
followers  by  the  neighboring  whites.  His  actions  are  simi- 
lar to  those  of  a  trance  medium,  and  if  self-hypnotization 
be  practicable  that  would  seem  to  explain  it.  I  questioned 
him  as  to  his  trances  and  hoped  to  have  him  explain  them 
to  me,  but  he  avoided  the  subject  and  was  angered  when  I 
pressed  him.    He  manifestly  believes  all  he  says  of  what 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  227 

occurs  to  him  in  this  trance  state.  As  we  have  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  educated  white  people  who  believe  in  similar 
fallacies,  this  is  not  more  unlikely  in  an  Indian  subjected  to 
such  influences."^ 

Further  on,  the  same  author  continues  to  describe  one  of 
the  ceremonial  occasions  on  which  Smohalla  preached  the 
new  religion  and  made  converts: 

"Smohalla  invited  me,"  writes  MacMurray,  "to  parti- 
cipate in  what  he  considered  a  grand  ceremonial  service 
within  the  larger  house.  This  house  was  built  with  a  frame- 
work of  stout  logs  placed  upright  in  the  ground  and  roofed 
over  with  brush,  or  with  canvas  in  rainy  weather.  The 
sides  consisted  of  bark  and  rush  matting.  It  was  about  75 
feet  long  by  25  feet  wide.  Singing  and  drumming  had  been 
going  on  for  some  time  when  I  arrived.  The  air  resounded 
with  the  voices  of  hundreds  of  Indians,  male  and  female,  and 
the  banging  of  drums.  Within,  the  room  was  dimly  lighted. 
Smoke  curled  from  a  fire  on  the  floor  at  the  farther  end  and 
pervaded  the  atmosphere.  The  ceiling  was  hung  with  hun- 
dreds of  salmon,  split  and  drying  in  the  smoke. 

"The  scene  was  a  strange  one.  On  either  side  of  the  room 
was  a  row  of  twelve  women  standing  erect  with  arms 
crossed  and  hands  extended,  with  finger  tips  at  the  shoulders. 
They  kept  time  to  the  drums  and  their  voices  by  balancing 
on  the  balls  of  their  feet  and  tapping  with  their  heels  on 
the  floor,  while  they  chanted  with  varying  pitch  and  time. 
The  excitement  and  persistent  repetition  wore  them  out, 
and  I  heard  that  others  than  Smohalla  had  seen  visions  in 
their  trances,  but  I  saw  none  who  would  admit  it  or  explain 
anything  of  it.  I  fancied  they  feared  their  own  action,  and 
that  real  death  might  come  to  them  In  this  simulated  death. 

"Those  on  the  right  hand  were  dressed  in  garments  of  a 
red  color  with  an  attempt  at  uniformity.  Those  on  the 
left  wore  costumes  of  white  buckskin,  said  to  be  very  ancient 
ceremonial  costumes,  with  red  and  blue  trimmings.  All 
wore  large  round  silver  plates  or  such  other  glittering  orna- 

^Bureau  of  Ethnology,  14th  Annual  Report,  pp.  719-720. 


228  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

merits  as  they  possessed.  A  canvas  covered  the  floor  and 
on  it  knelt  the  men  and  boys  in  lines  of  seven.  Each  seven, 
as  a  rule,  had  shirts  of  the  same  color.  The  tallest  were 
in  front,  the  size  diminishing  regularly  to  the  rear.  Chil- 
dren and  ancient  hags  filled  in  any  spare  space.  In  front 
on  a  mattress  knelt  Smohalla,  his  left  hand  covering  his 
heart.  On  his  right  was  the  boy  bell  ringer  in  similar  pos- 
ture."^ 

Another  great  prophet  or  messiah  was  Wovoka,  probably 
a  Paiute  Indian,  born  about  1856.  It  seems  that  his  father 
had  been  a  minor  prophet,  so  that  Wovoka  grew  up  in  an 
atmosphere  that  suggested  his  future  calling.  He  received 
his  great  revelation  at  the  early  age  of  fourteen.  "On 
this  occasion  'the  sun  died'^  ....  and  he  fell  asleep  in 
the  daytime  and  was  taken  up  to  the  other  world.  Here  he 
saw  God,  with  all  the  people  who  had  died  long  ago  engaged 
in  their  oldtime  sports  and  occupations,  all  happy  and  for- 
ever young.  It  was  a  pleasant  land  and  full  of  game.  After 
showing  him  all,  God  told  him  he  must  go  back  and  tell  his 
people  they  must  be  good  and  love  one  another,  have  no 
quarreling,  and  live  in  peace  with  the  whites ;  that  they  must 
work,  and  not  lie  or  steal ;  that  they  must  put  away  all  the 
old  practices  that  savored  of  war;  that  if  they  faithfully 
obeyed  his  instruction  they  would  at  last  be  reunited  with 
their  friends  in  this  other  world,  where  there  would  be  no 
more  death  or  sickness  or  old  age.  He  was  then  given  the 
dance  which  he  was  commanded  to  bring  back  to  his  people. 
By  performing  this  dance  at  intervals,  for  five  consecutive 
days  each  time,  they  would  secure  this  happiness  to  them- 
selves and  hasten  the  event.  Finally  God  gave  him  control 
over  the  elements  so  that  he  could  make  it  rain  or  snow  or 
be  dry  at  will,  and  appointed  him  his  deputy  to  take  charge 
of  affairs  in  the  west,  while  'Governor  Harrison'  would 


^Ibid,  p.  726. 

*The  reference  is  to  an  eclipse,  an  event  which  always  arouse*  great 
commotion  in  an  Indian  community.  It  seems  that  on  this  occasion  the  sickly 
youth  experienced  some  sort  of  a  fit,  accompanied  by  a  somewhat  elaborate 
hallucination. 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  229 

attend  to  matters  in  the  east,  and  he,  God,  would  look  after 
the  world  above.  He  then  returned  to  earth  and  began 
to  preach  as  he  was  directed,  convincing  the  people  by  exer- 
cising the  wonderful  powers  that  had  been  given  him."^ 

Wovoka  was  a  powerful  magician.  He  had  five  songs  by- 
means  of  which  he  could  control  rain  and  snow.  The  first 
song  brought  mists  or  clouds;  the  second,  a  snowfall;  the 
third,  a  shower;  the  fourth,  hard  rain  or  storm;  while  the 
fifth  brought  clear  weather.  The  ceremonial  aspect  of  the 
dances  introduced  by  Wovoka  were  of  the  usual  kind,  em- 
bracing frenzy,  fits  and  visions. 

The  mythology  of  the  doctrine  can  be  briefly  stated  in 
the  words  of  Mooney:  "The  dead  are  all  arisen  and  the 
spirit  hosts  are  advancing  and  have  already  arrived  at  the 
boundaries  of  this  earth,  led  forward  by  the  regenerator 
in  shape  of  cloud-like  indistinctness.  The  spirit  captain  of 
the  dead  is  always  represented  under  this  shadowy  sem- 
blance. The  great  change  will  be  ushered  in  by  a  trembling 
of  the  earth,  at  which  the  faithful  are  exhorted  to  feel  no 
alarm.  The  hope  held  out  is  the  same  that  has  inspired  the 
Christian  for  nineteen  centuries — a  happy  immortality  in 
perpetual  youth.  As  to  fixing  a  date,  the  messiah  is  as  cau- 
tious as  his  predecessor  in  prophecy,  who  declares  that  'no 
man  knoweth  the  time,  not  even  the  angels  of  God.'  "^ 

The  ethical  code  embraced  such  maxims  as  "do  no  harm 
to  any  one,  do  right  always,"  "do  not  tell  lies,"  "when  your 
friends  die  you  must  not  cry" — a  reference  to  the  elaborate, 
expensive  and  often  cruel  rites  that  used  to  accompany 
burials  among  these  tribes.  But  the  most  prominent  maxim 
was  "you  must  not  fight."  The  effect  of  this  ethical  code 
in  the  setting  of  a  revivalist  doctrine  seems  to  have  been 
remarkable,  insofar  as  it  fostered  friendliness  among  tribes 
that  had  previously  been  almost  perpetually  at  war. 

A  religious  upheaval,  similar  to  the  Ghost-Dance  Reli- 
gions of  the  west,  swept  over  the  Iroquois  tribes  of  the  east 


^Ibid,  pp.  771-772. 
*Ibid,  p.  782. 


230  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

in  the  beginning  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  Here  the 
prophet  was  Handsome-Lake,  the  brother  of  a  great  war 
chief.  So  far  as  recorded,  his  life  up  to  the  age  of  sixty  was 
not  an  unusual  one  and  if  he  achieved  any  distinction 
it  was  by  his  rather  wild  and  disorderly  habits.  Then  he 
fell  sick  and  his  ailment  was  pronounced  hopeless.  While 
on  his  death-bed  he  had  an  elaborate  dream  accompanied 
by  a  vision,  usually  designated  as  the  vision  of  the  four 
angels.  In  this  dream  and  vision  he  claims  to  have  received 
the  outline  of  the  new  doctrine.  Here  the  traces  of  Chris- 
tian teaching  are  conspicuous:  the  doctrine  was  proclaimed 
by  four  angels  and  implied  a  belief  in  one  supreme  god, 
which  was  foreign  to  Indian  religion.  Handsome-Lake's 
teaching  rejected  many  of  the  ancient  beliefs  and  ceremonies 
of  the  Iroquois  as  heathen  and  evil.  At  the  same  time,  it  in- 
corporated in  its  precepts  an  even  larger  number  of  the  pre- 
existing beliefs  and  practices.  Here  also  the  religious  doc- 
trine had  an  ethical  flavor;  it  prescribed  peace,  truthfulness 
and  sobriety,  and  comprised  certain  educational  maxims. 

The  doctrine  of  Handsome-Lake  received  wide  acceptance 
among  the  Iroquois  tribes,  and  to  this  day,  in  many  of  the 
Iroquoian  reservations,  some  Indians  belong  to  one  or  an- 
other Christian  denomination,  while  others,  not  always 
the  minority,  are  followers  of  Handsome-Lake  or 
"deists,"  as  they  like  to  call  themselves.  There  are  still  a 
number  of  men  living  who  know  the  entire  doctrine  and 
preach  it  on  the  different  reservations.  This  process,  when 
accompanied  by  explanations,  implies  three  hours  preaching 
a  day  for  five  days.  It  is  very  remarkable  and  has  often 
been  noted  that  many  of  the  older  beliefs  of  the  Iroquois 
have  been  almost  wholly  supplanted  by  this  new  religion. 

The  Ghost-Dance  Religions  of  the  western  Indians  and 
the  doctrine  of  Handsome-Lake  remind  one  of  parallel  and 
recent  phenomena  in  civilization.  The  numerous  Russian 
sects,  which  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  centuries  have 
split  off  from  the  Greek  Catholic  Church,  present  many 
features  of  striking  resemblance  to  those  reviewed  above. 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  231 

The  conflicting  interests  and  customs  of  the  whites  and  the 
Indians,  which  provide  the  socio-psychological  background 
for  American  Indian  revivalism,  have  their  analogue  in 
the  ruthless  pressure  exerted  by  the  Orthodox  Church  of 
Greece  upon  the  religious  ideas  of  the  ethnic  conglomerate 
of  the  Russian  plains.  Here  also  recur  the  prophets,  won- 
der-workers and  messiahs,  or  earthly  representatives  of 
messiah.  The  new  religions  are  ushered  in  by  ceremonial- 
ism, often  of  a  secret  nature.  There  are  visions  and  fits, 
and  there  is  an  ethical  code  with  the  usual  drastic  demands 
on  the  stolidity  and  altruism  of  the  devotees. 

The  religious  transformations  of  early  society  are  veiled 
in  darkness.  It  is  doubtful  whether  we  shall  ever  possess 
authentic  material  for  this  chapter  of  human  history,  but 
one  might  at  least  conjecture  that  religious  revivals,  when 
they  have  occurred,  have  come  at  periods  of  emotional  stress 
and  strain,  perhaps  precipitated  by  intertribal  contact  or 
conflict,  and  that  in  their  nature,  mechanism  and  progress 
they  were  not  unlike  the  Ghost-Dance  Religions  of  the 
American  Indian  and  the  heretical  creeds  of  the  Russian 
sectarians. 

SUPERNATURALISM  As  A  WoRLD  ViEW 

The  first  tenet  of  early  supernaturalism  is  its  animistic 
faith.  To  the  world  of  matter  Is  opposed  the  world  of 
spirit.  Great  Is  the  variety  of  the  forms  of  individual  spir- 
its and  equally  varied  are  their  functions.  In  their  form 
the  spirits  must  be  regarded  as  derived  either  from  the 
things  of  nature,  animate  and  inanimate,  or  from  trans- 
formed or  distorted  versions  or  combinations  of  these. 
Spirits  in  the  form  of  Inanimate  things  and  plants  are  not 
unknown  although  not  common,  animal-shaped  spirits  ev- 
erywhere predominate,  while  spirits  in  the  shape  of  man 
early  take  the  lead,  and  in  numerous  primitive  civilizations 
just  above  the  lowest,  constitute  the  principal  inhabitants 
of  the  supernatural  realm.     Various  grotesque  spirits  must 


232  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

be  regarded  as  derived  either  from  dreams  or  visions  or  to 
be  the  outgrowth  of  the  free  play  of  the  imagination.  Not 
infrequently,  artificial  objects  or  artistic  conventions  must 
have  had  an  influence  on  the  formal  character  of  spirits. 
Thus,  it  is  highly  probable  that  the  False  Face  spirits  of 
the  Iroquois  are  the  projections  into  the  spiritual  world 
of  the  grotesque  wooden  masks  worn  by  the  members  of 
the  False  Face  Society,  while  the  diminutive  spirits  of  the 
Chukchee  and  Koryak  may  be  nothing  but  spiritualizations 
of  the  fairly  crude  etchings  of  these  people,  always  limited 
In  size,  owing  to  the  nature  of  the  objects  to  which  they 
are  applied. 

As  soon  as  higher  deities  appear,  large,  at  times  enormous, 
proportions  are  usually  attributed  to  these  spiritual  beings. 
The  qualities  and  functions  of  spirit  beings  are  either  de- 
scriptive of  the  functions  of  earthly  creatures  or  of  natural 
forces  represented  by  these  supernatural  beings,  or  they 
are  projections  of  the  fears  and  desires  of  man. 

The  second  tenet  of  early  supernaturalism  Is  its  magical 
faith.  Some  so-called  magical  practices  can  scarcely  be  dis- 
tinguished from  matter-of-fact  procedure  and  should  really 
be  classed  with  these.  Thus,  In  the  curative  practices  of  the 
primitive  medicine-man  there  is  often  no  breach  of  continuity 
between  the  "magical"  methods  and  those  based  on  know- 
ledge and  common  sense;  but  the  typical  magical  act  rests 
on  the  faith  that  certain  desired  results  can  be  achieved  or 
feared  ones  obviated  by  means  of  an  established  series  of 
manipulations,  rituals  or  Incantations.  While  such  acts 
performed  by  individuals  or  groups  are  characteristic  of 
magical  procedure,  the  magical  faith  extends  to  the  opera- 
tion of  similar  wills  or  powers  throughout  the  domain  of 
nature.  A  particularly  conspicuous  aspect  of  these  magical 
operations  Is  the  power  of  transformation  which  Is  a  con- 
stant Ingredient  of  primitive  supernaturalism.  Inanimate 
things  can  turn  Into  animate  ones,  plants  Into  animals  and 
vice  versa,  and  all  of  these  into  man;  man,  again,  may  be- 
come transformed  into  a  being  or  object  of  any  description, 


RELIGION  AND  MAGIC  233 

and  spirits  and  gods  may  also  assume  the  form  of  any  of 
these  or  of  man. 

Again,  what  is  achieved  by  magical  acts  are  the  objects 
of  human  desires  and  fears.  Whether  for  good  or  evil, 
the  magician  achieves  what  matter-of-fact  procedure  can- 
not attain  or  what,  at  least  at  the  time  and  place,  is  beyond 
the  reach  of  natural  processes.  Thus,  some  things  that 
magic  brings,  such  as  food,  children  or  the  destruction  of  an 
enemy,  can  at  times  be  attained  by  other  more  secular  pro- 
cesses; some  achievements  of  magic,  on  the  other  hand,  such 
as  the  power  to  resist  wounds  or  to  awake  from  the  dead, 
or  to  see  or  hear  things  at  a  distance,  remain  prerogatives 
of  magic  alone. 

Underlying  both  animism  and  magic  is  the  faith  in  power. 
This  is  the  third  and  most  important  tenet  of  supernatur- 
alism.  Spirits  count  only  Insofar  as  they  can  and  do  exercise 
powers  for  good  or  evil.  And  magic  is  but  a  system  of 
powers,  positive  or  negative,  actual  or  potential.  In  many 
of  their  activities  and  manifestations,  spirits,  gods  and  ma- 
gical powers  merely  duplicate  what  can  be  and  is  being  done 
by  other  means  In  the  workaday  world,  but  It  is  character- 
istic of  all  spirits,  magic  powers  and  supernatural  beings 
that  they  can  do  some  things  which  are  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  matter-of-fact. 

The  concrete  living  participation  of  the  individual  In 
this  world  of  supernaturalism  Is  through  the  experience 
of  the  religious  thrill,  which  is  characteristic  of  all  live  re- 
ligions and  magical  situations,  and  through  the  exercise  of 
his  will  in  the  performance  of  magical  acts,  which  is  com- 
parable to  the  self-assertion  of  the  Individual  who  attains 
things  by  natural  means,  but  Is  here  transferred  Into  the 
realm  of  that  which  lies  beyond  the  natural. 

Supernaturalism  is  ever  fed  and  reinforced  by  two  im- 
portant Institutional  adjuncts:  mythology  and  ceremoni- 
alism. In  one  of  Its  Important  aspects,  mythology  fulfills 
the  function  of  a  primitive  theology,  it  develops  and  syste- 
matizes the  ideas  and  conceptual  constructs  which  spring 


234  EARLY  CIVILIZATION 

from  supernaturalism.  In  lighter  moments  it  plays  with 
supernatural  elements,  and  always  it  mingles  them  with  hu- 
man episodes  and  adventures,  thus  adding  to  the  magic  of 
supernaturalism  the  charms  of  the  plot  and  the  drama.  The 
functions  fulfilled  by  mythology  with  reference  to  the  intel- 
lectual or  ideational  aspects  of  supernaturalism  are  fulfilled 
by  ceremonialism  in  the  domain  of  emotion.  Through  the 
constant  drive  of  ceremonialism,  the  reactions  toward  the 
supernatural  assume  fixed,  crystallized  forms.  They  be- 
come subject  to  the  control  and  pressure  of  social  sanction, 
they  become  diffused  and  magnified  through  the  influence 
of  the  crowd  psychological  situation.  The  never-ceasing 
rhythm  of  ceremonialism  ever  feeds  the  sacred  fire  of  super- 
naturalism. It  does  not  permit  the  incandescent  phantas- 
magoria of  magic  and  spirit  to  cool,  for  there,  in  the  grey- 
ness  of  a  sober  mind  and  placid  emotion,  supernaturalism 
may  fall  prey  to  the  inroads  of  experience  and  reason. 

Sooner  or  later  it  will  fall  prey  to  these,  but  not  before 
man  has  learned,  through  measurement  and  inquiry  and 
criticism  and  the  detachment  of  the  individual,  to  evade 
the  pitfalls  of  myth  and  ritual,  the  shrewdness  of  the  priest 
and  the  magician,  and  his  own  craving  for  the  impossible. 


CHAPTER    XII 

SOCIETY 

The  Foundations  of  Society 

Man  Is  a  political  animal.  No  matter  how  far  down  we 
go  in  civilization  some  form  of  social  organization  is  always 
there.  In  one  sense,  indeed,  society  antedates  the  individual; 
for  some  of  the  most  distinctive  attributes  of  man,  such  as 
speech  and  perhaps  religion,  could  not  have  originated  in 
the  absence  of  a  social  setting.  It  goes  without  saying  that 
the  individual  as  a  discrete  unit,  as  a  self-conscious  individ- 
uality juxtaposed  to  society,  is  a  later  product  of  social 
evolution. 

If  there  is  a  social  organization,  there  must  be  a  basis 
on  which  it  rests.  Some  writers  are  wont  to  ascribe  the 
institution  of  the  fundamental  forms  of  society  to  the  de- 
liberate thought  and  decision  of  wise  and  powerful  men. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  intervention  of  premeditated 
control  by  groups  and  individuals  has  played  a  conspicuous 
part  in  the  history  of  social  and  political  organization,  but 
it  is  equally  certain  that  the  basic  forms  of  society  have 
arisen  out  of  certain  factors  given  in  man's  relation  to  his 
physical  and  social  environment,  and  that  the  process  was  as 
spontaneous  as  it  wp.s  unconscious.  Whatever  later  trans- 
formations have  occurred  in  society  and  politics,  they  were 
always  rooted  in  these  basic  forms,  some  of  which  are  as 
old  as  man  and  older  than  the  self-conscious  individual. 

What,  then,  are  the  factors  in  early  life  that  were  utilized 
for  purposes  of  social  organization?  The  first  is  locality. 
Man  has  always  lived  somewhere.  Perpetual  vagrancy  is 
[not  a  primitive  phenomenon.  The  unceasing  migrations  of 
modern  gypsies  seem  to  be  correlated  with  the  permanently 
fixed  habitats  of  a  higher  civilization.  The  gypsy  and  the 
Wandering  Jew  do  not  belong  to  the  beginning  of  history. 

235 


236  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

Whether  In  the  snow-built  villages  of  the  Eskimo  or  the 
woody  recesses  of  the  Bushmen,  in  the  cave  dwellings  of 
pre-historic  Europe  or  the  camp  of  the  Australian  with  its 
crudely  fashioned  fireplace  and  windshield,  man,  however 
primitive,  has  always  lived  somewhere.  There  was  some 
locality  or  a  number  of  localities  that  he  regarded  as  his 
home.  He  did  not  wander  from  place  to  place  indefinitely, 
but  returned  periodically  to  a  number  of  places,  if  there 
were  more  than  one,  within  a  more  or  less  limited  district. 

A  home  is  not  merely  a  physical  fact.  It  is  also  a  psycho- 
logical one.  To  have  a  home  is  to  know  one's  physical  en- 
vironment, to  forsee  the  habitual  climatic  changes,  cold  and 
heat,  drought  and  storm.  It  is  to  know  the  animals  and 
plants  available  in  the  neighborhood,  to  be  familiar  with 
their  habits;  to  learn  to  avoid  them  as  dangerous,  to  seek 
them  as  food,  as  friends.  A  home,  moreover,  comprises  a 
human  group,  it  implies  common  habitation,  common  ad- 
justment, common  knowledge,  as  well  as  familiarity  with 
each  other.  People  who  live  together  know  each  other's  be- 
havior. They  learn  to  understand  each  other's  gestures  and 
physiognomy;  and  in  some  cases,  as  in  Central  Australia, 
they  can  tell  each  other's  footprints.  There  is  a  spirit  of 
neighborhood.  No  matter  what  other  forms  of  political 
or  social  organization  may  exist,  there  is  always  co-opera- 
tion, some  mutual  helpfulness  on  the  part  of  the  members 
of  a  local  group.  And  there  is  a  readiness,  if  not  an  or- 
ganization, for  protection  against  climatic  dangers  as  well 
as  against  the  dangers  from  beasts  and  hostile  men. 

And  human  nature  being  always  the  same,  to  know  about 
people  is  to  want  to  know  too  much  about  them.  Gossip 
is  one  of  the  universal  institutions  of  mankind,  and  it  is 
specifically  associated  with  the  local  group;  a  circumstance 
from  which  many  an  ethnologist  has  greatly  profited.  For 
in  conditions  where  the  written  word  is  absent  and  the  spirit 
of  systematic  investigation  as  yet  unborn,  gossip  is  an  im- 
portant source  of  dissemination  of  knowledge,  especially  of 


SOCIETY  237 

personal  and  intimate  knowledge,  and  the  professional  gos- 
sip is  the  ethnologist's  great  friend. 

One  of  the  domains  in  primitive  society  in  which  both 
prescriptive  and  proscriptive  regulations  abound  is  mar- 
riage. As  will  presently  be  seen,  the  control  of  marriage  is 
a  function  of  more  than  one  type  of  social  grouping.  Not 
infrequently  the  local  group  controls  marriage,  insofar  as 
local  exogamy  prevails:  no  marriage  within  one's  own  vil- 
lage. This  holds,  for  instance,  for  the  American  Blackfoot, 
a  number  of  coastal  tribes  of  Australia  and  numerous  groups 

ton  the  islands  of  Torres  Straits  and  of  Melanesia,  where 
localized  clans  are  the  rule.  From  the  standpoint  of  civili- 
zation, another  point  deserves  emphasis  here  to  which  ref- 
erence was  made  before:  the  local  group  is  the  smallest 
unit  of  cultural  specialization.  In  slight  details  of  custom 
and  daily  habits,  of  ceremony  and  perhaps  of  dialect,  a 
local  group  is  always  to  some  extent  different  from  every 

1  other  local  group.  Moreover,  civilizational  changes  are  al- 
ways rooted  in  local  variants.* 
Another  basis  of  social  organization  is  blood  relationship. 
The  importance  of  blood  ties  in  early  life  has  long  been 
understood.  More  than  one  kind  of  grouping  based  on 
blood  must  be  distinguished.  The  most  universal  and  uni- 
form among  these  is  the  family.  Contrary  to  a  widespread 
notion  for  which  anthropologists  are  in  part  responsible, 
the  family,  consisting  of  husband,  wife  and  children,  is 
found  everywhere.  There  may  be  more  than  one  wife, 
and  here  and  there,  more  than  one  husband;  the  average 
duration  of  matrimonial  ties  may  fall  short  of  modern  stand- 
ards; the  household,  moreover,  may  embrace  other  related 


*It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  the  basic  character  of  locality  as  a 
social  classifier  has  never  been  transcended.  Among  the  fixed  groupings 
of  modern  society,  local  determinants  loom  large.  State,  city,  village,  quar- 
ter, street,  block,  are  teritorial  units  of  physical  as  well  as  of  psychological 
and  sociological  significance.  And  as  ever,  there  liveth  the  spirit  of  the 
neighborhood  with  its  grotesque  twin,  the  spirit  of  gossip.  It  is  interesting 
to  note  in  this  connection  that  in  the  most  recent  socio-political  experiment 
on  a  gigantic  scale,  in  Soviet  Russia,  the  territorial  group  shares  with  the 
industrial  one  its  place  as  the  minor  electoral  unit 


238  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

individuals  in  addition  to  the  immediate  family ;  the  fact  re- 
mains: the  family  is  there  as  a  distinct  unit.  It  is  there, 
whatever  other  social  units  may  co-exist  with  it;  moreover, 
it  antedates  them:  where  no  other  social  forms  are  found, 
the  family  can  always  be  discerned.  It  has  also  been  noted 
that  among  the  most  primitive  tribes,  monogamy  is  more 
generally  the  rule  than  is  the  case  at  somewhat  later  stages 
of  social  development. 

The  family  controls  the  individual  in  a  variety  of  ways. 
Its  influence  is  especially  pronounced  during  the  earliest  years 
of  education  and  the  somewhat  later  period  of  industrial  ap- 
prenticeship. Even  marriage,  in  its  many  varied  forms — 
that  ubiquitous  and  all-important  social  usage — is  more  often 
than  not  controlled  by  a  member  or  members  of  the  im- 
mediate family. 

The  family  often  functions  as  a  ceremonial  unit,  especially 
on  occasions  connected  with  birth,  death,  burial  and  mar- 
riage. 

An  interesting  and  rare  form  of  family  organization  has 
recently  been  described  by  Professor  Speck  among  some 
Eastern  Algonquin  tribes.  The  tribe  here  is  subdivided  into 
a  number  of  families,  each  including  certain  relatives  in 
addition  to  the  primal  nucleus  of  parents  and  children.  The 
preeminence  of  the  father  is  marked.  Associated  with 
each  family  is  a  hunting  territory  of  varying  size  in 
which  its  members  claim  exclusive  hunting  privileges, 
the  latter  being  extended  to  strangers  only  by  special  ar- 
rangement. The  boundaries  of  such  hunting  territories  are 
marked  at  varying  intervals  by  natural  or  artificial  signposts. 
The  Indians  have  a  very  clear  idea  of  the  extent  and  limits 
of  their  respective  territories.' 

But  the  most  significant  and  omnipresent  function  of  the 
family  is  in  that  it  serves  as  the  principal  point  of  transfer  of 

^Professor  Speck  was  able  to  secure  from  his  informants  a  series  of  maps, 
drawn  under  his  direction,  on  which  the  boundaries  of  the  family  terri- 
tories are  indicated  {cf.  for  example,  his  "Family  Hunting  Territories  and 
Social  Life  of  Various  Algonkian  Bands  of  the  Ottawa  Valley,"  Geological 
Survey,  Ottawa,  Canada,  Memoir  70). 


SOCIETY 


239 


I 


civilization  from  one  generation  to  another.  It  must  be  re- 
membered that  civilization  consists  in  part  of  material  things 
and  in  part  of  ideas,  attitudes,  customs,  and  so  on.  The  lat- 
ter set  of  phenomena  make  up  by  far  the  larger  part  of 
civilization.  Now,  even  material  things,  as  part  of  culture, 
are  not  passed  along  automatically:  their  uses  must  be  ex- 
plained, the  implied  techniques  learned.  As  to  spiritual  cul- 
ture, including  language  itself,  there  is  no  other  way  for  it 
to  be  passed  on,  in  a  society  without  writing,  except  through 
verbal  explanation  and  teaching  and  the  direct  observation 
by  the  learner  of  what  is  being  said  and  done.  It  is  evident 
that  a  large  part  of  what  the  individual  receives  in  this  way, 
especially  during  the  highly  important  formative  years  of 
early  childhood,  is  brought  to  him  through  the  medium  of 
the  family.  There  are  other  agencies  through  which  he 
learns,  but  in  the  earliest  years  the  influence  of  the  family 
is  overwhelmingly  preponderant.  The  significance  of  the 
family  as  a  transfer  point  of  civilization  cannot  be  over- 
estimated. In  the  socio-psychological  domain  it  serves  as 
;.a  bridge  between  the  generations,  between  fathers  and  sons. 

Truly  organic,  biological  in  its  foundation,  but  with  im- 
portant psychological  and  sociological  correlates,  the  family 
is  thus  seen  to  be  an  universal  possession  of  mankind.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  patriarchal  family,  centering  about  its 
'male  master,  as  among  the  Hebrews;  the  highly  legalized 
family,  becoming  a  minor  cell  in  the  elaborate  economico- 
legal  organism  of  the  state,  as  in  modern  society;  the  sancti- 
fied family,  serving  as  a  point  of  application  of  institutional 
conservatism  and  a  devout  ancestor  worship,  as  in  China 
and  Japan;  these  forms  of  the  family  are  later  products  of 
the  historic  process,  of  which  but  germinal  elements  may  be 
discerned  in  early  life. 

Another  form  of  blood  relationship  bond  is  discovered 
in  the  amorphous  group  of  blood  relations,  consisting  of  in- 
dividuals, male  and  female,  who  are  designated  by  different 
terms  expressing  kinship: -mother,  father,  brother,  sister, 
uncle,  aunt,  cousin,  and  so  on.    Such  groups  of  blood  kindred. 


240  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

with  corresponding  kinship  terms,  exist  among  all  peoples, 
primitive  and  modern. 

In  all  discussions  of  this  subject  the  group  of  blood  rela- 
tives proper  cannot  be  separated  from  another  group,  that 
of  relatives  by  marriage,  as  the  two  kinds  of  kinship  con- 
stantly intertwine,  both  sociologically  and  terminologically. 
Of  this  the  primary  family  unit  itself  is  an  admirable  il- 
lustration, as  the  children  are  related  by  blood  both  to  the 
mother  and  to  the  father,  whereas  the  parents  may  be  re- 
lated merely  by  marriage. 

Primitive  relationship  terms  are  often  designated  by  the 
somewhat  misleading  term  "classificatory".  By  this  is 
meant  that  a  term  is  used  to  designate  not  merely  individuals 
related  in  a  certain  definite  way  but  also  other  individuals 
related  in  a  different  way.  Thus  the  term  "mother"  will 
be  used  to  designate  one's  own  mother,  but  also  the  mother's 
sister  and  her  first  cousin  and  perhaps  other  women  stand- 
ing to  the  speaker  in  different  degrees  of  relationship.  The 
term  for  "father"  may  be  used  in  a  similar  fashion  to  desig- 
nate one's  own  father,  the  father's  brother,  his  first  cousin, 
and  so  on.  Or,  again,  the  mother's  brother  and  the  father's 
sister's  husband  will  be  covered  by  one  term,  or  the  father's 
sister  and  the  mother's  brother's  wife.  Or,  one  term  may 
be  used  for  father's  sister,  her  daughter,  her  daughter's 
daughter.  A  great  many  such  extensions  in  the  uses  of 
relationship  terms  are  found  throughout  primitive  termin- 
ologies of  relationship.  In  contrasting  these  kinship  systems 
with  our  own,  for  example  the  English,  the  term  "class- 
ificatory" is  justified  for  the  former  only  insofar  as  the  terms 
for  the  immediate  family — father,  mother,  brother,  sister, 
son,  daughter — are  always  used  by  us  to  designate  a 
relative  standing  to  the  speaker  in  one  particular  degree 
of  relationship,  whereas  just  these  terms  are  in  primitive 
systems  most  frequently  extended  to  cover  different  classes 
of  relatives.  On  the  other  hand,  such  terms  as  "uncle" 
and  "aunt"  are  used  in  a  classificatory  way  by  ourselves,  to 
designate    respectively    father's    and    mother's    brother. 


SOCIETY  241 

father's  and  mother's  sister,  whereas  in  primitive  termin- 
ologies "aunt"  is  often  used  to  designate  only  father's  sister, 
not  mother's  sister,  while  "uncle"  is  only  used  for  mother's 
brother,  not  father's  brother. 

At  the  same  time  it  is  important  to  remember,  as  bearing 
upon  the  status  of  the  family,  that  the  terms  used  for  the 
immediate  members  of  the  family  are  either  distinguished 
from  the  same  terms  in  their  extended  uses  by  the  addition 
of  some  particle,  or  terms  corresponding  to  "own"  are 
used,  or  a  distinction  is  implied  in  the  context  of  the  conver- 
sation. The  family  is  the  family,  whatever  the  system  of 
relationship  and  whatever  the  uses  of  terms.^ 

It  must  not  be  imagined  that  these  extensions  in  the  uses 
of  kinship  terms  and  the  kinship  systems  themselves  repre- 
sent but  terminological  issues.  To  assume  this  would  be 
to  seriously  misconstrue  primitive  society.  First  of  all,  re- 
lationhip  terms  are  often  employed  In  place  of  our  personal 
names,  the  latter  being  reserved  for  special,  generally  cere- 
monial occasions.  Then  again,  special  rules  of  behavior, 
proscrlptlve  and  prescriptive,  often  apply  to  certain  rela- 
tives. Apart  from  the  multifarious  functions  of  parents 
toward  children  and  only  less  numerous  ones  of  children 
toward  parents,  the  mother's  brother  is  a  relative  who  oc- 
cupies, particularly  In  maternally  organized  societies,  a 
place  of  special  prominence,  often  above  that  of  the  father, 
with  reference  to  the  inheritance  and  control  of  property, 
education  and  ceremonial  duties.  Again,  the  relations  of 
son-in-law  and  mother-in-law  are  among  many  tribes  strictly 
circumscribed,  all  familiarity  and  even  conversation  being 
forbidden  between  the  two.  Less  common  and  less  stringent 
regulations  control  not  infrequently  the  relations  of  daugh- 
ter-in-law and  father-in-law.  According  to  recent  informa- 
tion from  Melanesia,  a  connection  between  social  behavior 


^An  interesting  illustration  of  this  occurs  among  the  Iroquois,  where  the 
nephew  (sister's  son)  and  the  younger  brother  are  the  most  common  suc- 
cessors to  a  chief's  office.  Now,  both  these  terms  are  used  by  the  Iroquois 
in  a  classiiicatory  sense.  Still,  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases,  it  is  the  own 
sister's  son  or  younger  brother  who  succeeds  a  chief. 


242  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

and  particular  relatives  is  there  especially  frequent  and  im- 
portant. In  Australia,  again,  the  right,  in  fact  almost  the 
duty  to  marry,  belongs  to  certain  groups  of  related  indivi- 
duals within  the  phratry,  class  or  sub-class  limits,  who  are 
from  birth  on  designated  as  "husbands"  and  "wives." 

While  in  Australia  the  matrimonial  correlates  of  relation- 
ship are  exceptionally  conspicuous,  in  view  mainly  of  their 
prescriptive  character,  relatives  of  varying  degrees  are  pro- 
hibited from  intermarriage  or  sex  contact  among  all  peoples 
and  at  all  times.  Among  these  prohibitions,  some  stand  out 
as  particularly  general  and  drastic :  mother  and  son,  father 
and  daughter,  brother  and  sister,  in  the  order  named,  stand 
at  the  head  of  the  list.  Not  one  of  these  sex  taboos,  cate- 
gorical though  they  are,  has  remained  wholly  free  from  in- 
fractions— outside  the  law  and  even,  in  certain  wholly  ex- 
ceptional instances,  within  the  law — but  barring  these  ex- 
ceptions, it  must  be  said  that  these  particular  taboos  are 
everywhere  reinforced  by  the  so-called  "horror  of  incest'*, 
an  emotional  reaction  of  somewhat  mysterious  origin,  which 
is  by  no  means  restricted  in  its  range  to  the  three  primary 
sex  taboos,  but  readily  extends  at  least  to  the  major  sex  pro- 
hibitions prevalent  in  a  given  community.' 

The  two  kinds  of  relationship  groups  so  far  discussed, 
different  though  they  are,  have  certain  elements  in  common: 
both  are  biological  and  bilateral.  The  individuals  of  a  re- 
lationship group  are  united  by  actual  ties  of  blood,  and  these 
ties  branch  out  in  both  lateral  directions,  through  the  mother 
as  well  as  the  father  of  an  individual.  This  represents  in 
an  extended  form  the  basic  fact  that  the  family  itself  is 
bilateral,  insofar  as  the  parents  are  related  to  the  children 


*It  seems  hardly  fair  to  doubt  that  psychoanalysis  will  ultimately  furnish 
a  satisfactory  psychological  interpretation  of  this  "horror  of  incest."  It  has 
been  shown  by  Freud,  all  but  conclusively,  that  incestuous  tendencies  repre- 
sent one  of  the  most  deeply  rooted  impulses  of  the  individual.  If,  then,  civi- 
lization should  develop  a  set  of  negative  attitudes  toward  incestuous  unions 
— and  here  further  psychological  and  perhaps  sociological  sounding  is  re- 
quired— it  is  to  be  expected  that  these  attitudes  would  become  reinforced 
by  most  formidable  barriers  imparted  to  the  individual  in  the  process  of 
education,  thus  becoming  crystallized  in  the  form  of  a  violent  emotional 
reaction. 


SOCIETY  243 

through  actual  bonds  of  blood  and  the  children  are  related 
to  each  other  through  both  parents/ 

On  the  other  hand,  the  parents  need  not  be  related  to  one 
another  except  by  marriage,  although  among  those  tribes 
where  cross  cousin  marriage  is  general,  or  even  obligatory 
(as  typical  in  Australia),  parents  are  also  closely  related  by 
blood.  In  general  it  may  be  remarked  that  in  small  com- 
munities— if  only  the  custom  of  exogamy  does  not  force  the 
man  or  woman  or  both  to  find  their  mates  among  individuals 
of  distant  local  groups — all  individuals  of  a  local  group 
soon  become  inter-related.  Then,  of  course,  all  the  mar- 
riages constitute  a  sort  of  inbreeding,  married  couples  be- 
ing, if  only  in  a  remote  way,  related  by  blood. 

The  blood  groups  now  to  be  considered  are  of  a  different 
order.  They  are  neither  purely  biological  (with  one  ex- 
ception) nor  bilateral.  These  groups  are:  the  clan,  the 
gens,  the  dual  division  (or  moiety) ,  the  maternal  family  and 
the  class.  From  a  biological  standpoint  it  is  justifiable  to 
class  all  of  these  groups  in  the  category  of  blood  relation- 
ship, insofar  as  all  of  them  contain  nuclei  of  blood  relatives, 
while  the  maternal  family,  as  shown  In  our  discussion  of  the 
Iroquois,  comprises  only  actual  blood  relatives.  There  is, 
moreover,  an  additional  reason  for  classing  these  social 
units  in  the  relationship  category.  Psychologically,  in  the 
minds  of  the  people  themselves,  the  individuals  in  each  one 
of  them  are  relatives.  This  fact  does  not  depend  on  the 
presence  or  absence  of  actual  blood  ties,  but  is  a  psycho- 
sociological  fact:  a  legal  fiction.  These  groups,  with  the 
exception  of  the  maternal  family,  may  thus  be  designated  as 


^This  is  so  in  the  natural  family.  In  the  case  of  step-fathers  and  step- 
mothers, the  blood  bond  will,  of  course,  apply  to  one  side  only.  Situations 
will  occur,  moreover,  where  even  this  is  not  true.  For  example:  a  woman 
with  a  child  born  to  her  first  husband  by  another  woman  may  become 
united  in  marriage  to  a  man  with  a  child  of  his  first  wife  by  another 
man.  In  this  case  neither  of  the  two  children  will  be  related  by  blood 
to  either  of  the  parents.  Considering  the  shiftiness  of  marriages  in  early 
communities  and  the  tendency  on  the  part  of  both  men  and  women  to 
take  over  the  care  of  children,  whatever  their  source,  cases  like  those 
described  are  probably  more  common  than  might  be  imagined.  They  are, 
nevertheless,  exceptional,  and  in  a  general  analysis  of  the  family  as  a  bilat- 
eral blood  relationship  group,  must  be  treated  as  such. 


244  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

pseudo-biological,  insofar  as  they  not  only  comprise  nuclear 
bodies  of  actual  blood  relatives,  but  are  conceived  by  the 
members  themselves  of  the  group  as  consisting  solely  of 
blood  relatives. 

Of  the  series  of  groups  here  enumerated  the  clan  and  the 
ffens  are  by  far  the  most  important.  A  clan  can  be  defined 
as  follows :  it  comprises  individuals  partly  related  by  blood 
and  partly  conceived  as  so  related;  it  is  hereditary  (a  person 
is  born  into  a  clan) ;  it  is  unilateral  (the  children  belonging 
to  the  clan  of  the  mother) ;  it  has  a  name.  The  definition  of 
a  gens  is  the  same  as  that  of  a  clan  with  the  difference  that 
the  children  follow  the  gens  of  the  father. 

Clans  and  gentes  have  a  tremendous  distribution  in  the 
primitive  world,  and  as  one  surveys  these  units  in  different 
geographical  areas,  scores  of  differences  appear  from  the 
standpoints  of  size,  number  and  functions.  In  North 
America,  for  example,  the  Iroquoian  Mohawk  and  Oneida 
have  only  three  clans  each,  while  the  other  tribes  of  the 
League  have  at  least  eight  each.  The  adjoining  Algonquin 
Delaware  have  three  clans,  among  the  southern  Siouan  tribes 
the  Omaha  have  ten  gentes,  while  the  other  similarly  organ- 
ized tribes,  like  the  Iowa,  Kansas,  Osage,  and  others,  have 
more  than  ten  but  less  than  twenty-five.  The  Winnebago 
have  twelve  clans.  As  contrasted  with  this,  the  Tlingit  and 
Haida  have  fifty  or  more  clans  each,  while  the  southern 
Kwakiutl  seem  to  have  had  considerably  more  than  that. 
In  the  Southwest,  the  Hopi,  the  Zuiii,  and  other  tribes  have 
at  least  as  many  clans  as  the  Tlingit  and  Haida  and  some 
have  more,  and  the  same  applies  to  some  tribes  in  the  South- 
east. In  Africa,  with  the  thirty  odd  Baganda  gentes,  some 
tribes  have  less  than  that  while  others  more,  without,  how- 
ever, reaching  very  high  figures.  In  Australia,  on  the  other 
hand,  some  tribes  of  the  Center  and  East  have  many  more 
than  one  hundred  clans  or  gentes.  Granted  similar  popu- 
lational  conditions,  the  multiplicity  of  these  social  units  is 
of  course  correlated  with  a  relative  paucity  of  individuals 
in  each.     In  Africa,  where  populational  conditions  are  far 


SOCIETY  245 

different  from  those  obtaining  in  North  America  or  in 
Australia,  individual  gentes  may  comprise  thousands  of 
members. 

The  variability  in  functions  is  equally  conspicuous.  In 
the  first  place,  there  is  great  difference  in  the  part  played 
by  a  clan  or  gentile  system  in  the  civilization  of  a  group. 
There  are  all  possible  variations;  among  the  Tlingit  and 
Haida  the  clan  system  is  inextricably  interwoven  with  a 
large  part  of  the  civilization  of  the  group;  among  the  Iro- 
quois the  clans  are  the  carriers  of  the  all  important  socio- 
political functions  of  the  League;  the  Zufii  clans,  as  Kroeber 
has  recently  emphasized,  represent  little  more  than  a  method 
of  counting  descent;  in  Africa,  barring  occasional  industrial 
specialization  of  gentes,  these  units  often  represent  but  very 
wide  and  loose  groups  with  a  common  name  and  a  com- 
mon taboo ;  the  very  numerous  clans  and  gentes  of  Australia, 
finally,  especially  those  of  the  central  area,  have  become  al- 
most purely  ceremonial  in  character;  they  are  magic  work- 
ing associations,  having  never  possessed  other  functions  or 
having  shed  them. 

When  one  compares  clans  of  relatively  proximate  areas, 
the  functional  contrasts  stand  out  even  more  strikingly. 
Thus,  among  the  Iroquois,  the  members  of  a  clan  in  ad- 
dition to  having  a  bird  or  animal  name,  control  exogamy, 
own  cemeteries,'  elect  ceremonial  officials,  play  a  definite 
part  in  the  election  of  federal  chiefs;  whereas  the  clans  of 
the  Tlingit  and  Haida  have  local  names  and  individual  clan 
chiefs,  own  hunting  and  fishing  territories,  and  are  dis- 
tinguished from  each  other  by  a  series  of  ceremonial  and 
mythological  prerogatives ;  a  clan  myth,  a  clan  carving  or  a 
set  of  carvings,  clan  ceremonial  dances  with  accessories,  a 
clan  song  or  songs.  The  clans  here  are  also  exogamous,  but 
merely  as  parts  of  the  major  units,  the  moieties,  which  con- 
trol the  matrimonial  functions.  But  perhaps  the  greatest 
contrast  between  the  Northwest  Coast  and  the   Iroquois 


'It  is  probable,    although   not  certain,  that  cultivated    fields    among   the 
Iroquois  were  also  owned  by  clan  units. 


246  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

clan  lies  in  the  fact  that  in  the  former  area  the  clans  have 
different  rank  in  accordance  with  the  privileges  and  super- 
natural powers  claimed  by  the  component  individuals ;  where- 
as among  the  Iroquois,  a  clan  is  a  clan,  no  less  and  no  more, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  only  some  of  the  clans  com- 
prise maternal  families  in  which  chieftainships  are  heredi- 
tary, while  other  clans  do  not.  Different  as  the  clans  of 
the  Haida  and  Tlingit  may  be  from  those  of  the  Iroquois, 
the  clans  of  both  groups  appear  as  relatively  similar  when 
contrasted  with,  say,  the  gentes  of  the  Baganda,  with  their 
double  totems  and  their  caste-like  specialization  in  industrial 
functions  and  services  to  the  king,  one  gens  comprising  pot 
makers,  another — ^basket  weavers,  still  another — ironsmiths, 
while  other  individual  gentes  furnish  the  drum  to  the  king, 
provide  him  with  certain  delicacies  for  his  table  or  supply 
the  wife  that  makes  the  king's  bed. 
y^  Correlated  with  some  of  the  differences  in  the  functions 
of  clans  is  the  relation  of  a  clan  system  to  a  family  system 
in  the  same  tribe;  thus,  among  the  Tlingit  and  Haida,  once 
more,  the  family  is  divided  against  itself  by  the  intrusion  of 
the  clan  principle.  The  inheritance  of  property  and  priv- 
ileges glides  along  the  edge  of  the  family,  as  it  were,  the 
main  line  of  transfer  being  from  maternal  uncle  to  nephew 
or  from  father-in-law  to  son-in-law.  Moreover,  in  the  old 
days  of  clan  feuds,  clan  allegiance  here  counted  for  more 
than  family  allegiance:  fathers  and  sons  met  in  deadly  com- 
bat, prompted  by  bonds  stronger  than  those  of  the  family 
hearth.  Among  the  Zuni,  on  the  other  hand,  the  family  is 
but  little  impressed  by  the  clan  division  within  its  midst — 
for  here  also  clan  members  do  not  intermarry — and  attends 
to  its  many  economic,  educational  and  domestic  functions 
almost  wholly  undisturbed  by  the  presence  of  another  social 
grouping. 

A  comparison  of  clans  and  gentes  in  different  geographi- 
cal areas  thus  discloses  striking  dissimilarities  and  even  con- 
trasts in  the  number  of  clan  or  gentile  units  in  a  tribe,  in  the 
number  of  individuals  in  each  unit,  in  clan  and  gentile  func- 


SOCIETY  247 

tions,  In  their  relative  Importance  as  carriers  of  the  civili- 
zation of  a  group,  In  their  relation,  finally,  to  the  family. 

The  impression  might  thus  be  conveyed  that  the  clan  (or 
gens)  represents  a  wholly  fictitious  category  corresponding 
to  no  consistent  reality  whatsoever :  that  it  is  but  a  term,  a 
useless  survival  from  the  alcheringa  of  anthropology  with  its 
dogmatic,  imaginative  and  ill-informed  inhabitants. 

This,  however,  would  be  pushing  one's  scepticism  decid- 
edly too  far.  Clans  and  gentes  the  world  over  have  cer- 
tain traits  in  common.  First  of  all,  the  traits  indicated  in 
our  definition:  the  fiction  of  blood  relationship,  the  heredi- 
tary character,  the  unilateral  aspect,  and  the  name. 

The  characteristic  of  having  a  name  might  be  found 
artificial  and  trivial:  who  or  what  in  this  world  does  not 
carry  a  name?  And  yet,  there  is  significance  in  this  char- 
acteristic. It  will  be  noted  that  of  the  social  groupings  here 
enumerated  only  two  almost  always  have  a  name :  the  local 
group  and  the  clan  (or  gens).^  Families  are  scarcely  ever 
known  by  name  (in  early  society),  the  maternal  families  of 
the  Iroquois  have  no  names,  relationship  groups  are  always 
nameless,  so  are,  as  a  rule,  age,  generation  and  sex  groups. 
Even  dual  divisions  and  phratries,  while  named  at  times, 
are  often  nameless.  But  the  local  group  and  the  clan  or 
gens  have  names.  In  the  case  of  the  two  latter  units,  more- 
over, the  name  carries  with  it  certain  sociological  conse- 
quences which  are  absent  in  the  case  of  the  local  name.  An 
individual  from  a  named  local  group  wanders  off  and  mar- 
ries elsewhere.  His  children  may  mention  or  at  least  know 
of  his  local  provenience;  but  barring  exceptional  instances, 
his  grandchildren  and  their  children  will  have  forgotten  it: 
the  imported  local  name  disappears  from  the  new  locality. 
It  Is  different  with  an  individual  member  of  a  clan  or  gens. 
In  the  case  of  a  clan,  if  a  woman  marries  into  another  local- 
ity, the  new  clan  will  persist  in  that  locality  as  long  as  wo- 
men are  born  from  descendants  of  the  immigrant,  it  being 


*To  this  must  be  added  those  strictly  Australian  social   units,  the  class 
and  sub-class,  which  also  have  names. 


248  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

taken  for  granted  that  the  conditions  of  group  descent  are 
the  same  in  the  new  locality,  which  is  often  so.  In  the  case 
of  a  gens,  the  same  applies  to  a  man. 

In  addition,  four  cultural  features  deserve  attention  as 
linked  in  their  geographical  distribution  with  clans  and 
gentes:  blood  revenge,  adoption,  exogamy  and  totemism. 
To  discourage  criticism  from  over-sensitive  methodologists 
it  may  be  noted  at  once  that  not  one  of  these  traits  is  in- 
variably linked  with  clans  and  gentes.  There  are  clans  and 
gentes  that  lack  some  or  all  of  the  traits,  and  each  one  of 
the  latter  occurs  in  association  with  other  social  units  than 
clans  and  gentes.  Nevertheless,  an  examination  of  the  data 
would  show  that  in  all  major  areas  these  two  customs — 
blood  revenge  as  a  function  of  the  kin  unit  and  the  ceremo- 
nial adoption  of  strangers  into  the  kin — are  so  frequently  as- 
sociated with  clans  and  gentes  that  these  social  units  and 
the  two  customs  must  be  regarded  as  historically  linked  and 
as  socio-psychologically  related. 

The  association  of  clans  and  gentes  with  exogamy  and 
totemism  is  much  more  striking.  Exogamy  is  an  all  but 
universal  associate,  while  totemism  is  an  extraordinarily 
common  one.  Leaving  the  relation  of  totemism  to  clans 
and  gentes  for  later  consideration,  some  remarks  must  now 
be  made  about  clan  and  gentile  exogamy. 

Clan  and  gentile  exogamy — the  rule  to  marry  outside 
one's  own  kin  unit — is  so  general  a  feature  that  it  may  here 
be  assumed  to  be  practically  universal.  But  there  is  one 
difficulty.  In  the  case  of  the  thirteen  Crow  clans  or  that  of 
the  three  Delaware  ones,  or  that  of  the  three  or  eight  or 
more  clans  of  an  Iroquois  League  tribe,  or  in  the  many 
Instances  of  Indian  gotras  or  African  gentes,  the  exogamous 
Issue  is  clear.  A  clan  or  gentile  member  Is  prohibited  from 
marrying  in  his  or  her  own  kin  unit,  but  must  look  for  a 
mate  outside,  in  one  of  the  other  clans  or  gentes. 

The  situation  becomes  more  complex  when  other  tribes 
are  considered.  Among  the  Tlingit  and  Haida,  for  example, 
there  is  no  marriage  within  the  clan,  but,  on  further  inspec- 


SOCIETY  249 

tion  it  appears  that  the  exogamous  rule  really  applies  to  the 
moiety:  marry  outside  of  your  own  moiety  and  into  the 
other  one.  Each  moiety,  as  was  explained  before,  is  sub- 
divided into  numerous  clans;  it  follows  that  in  observing 
moiety  exogamy,  individuals  also  follow  clan  exogamy.  The 
situation  is  identical  in  tribes  organized  like  the  Australian 
Dieri.' 

In  all  such  instances  the  moiety  is  the  real  exogamous 
unit,  while  the  exogamy  of  the  clans  may  be  designated  as 
derivative.  This  becomes  clear  when  one  considers  that 
the  same  rule  that  prevents  an  individual  from  marrying  in 
his  or  her  own  clan  also  prohibits  marriage  into  a  series  of 
other  clans,  namely  those  belonging  to  the  same  moiety: 

Moiety  I  Moiety  II 

clans      )  t  «  (      <^'*"' 

gentes     (  ^  x  J     ^*'°**' 

An  a  man  may  not  marry  an  a  woman,  nor  may  he  marry  a 
b  or  c  or  d  woman ;  he  marries  any  woman  of  moiety  II. 

It  is  as  if  one  were  to  say  that  in  a  football  game  a 
Harvard  freshman  is  pitted  against  a  Yale  junior.  Even 
though  objectively  correct,  the  statement  would  still  be 
misleading,  insofor  as  the  groups  pitted  against  each  other 
are  the  college  teams,  whereas  the  classes  do  not  figure  as 
units,  but  merely  indirectly  as  subdivisions  of  the  colleges. 

Further  complications  arise  upon  an  analysis  of  tribes 
organized  like  the  Australian  Kamilaroi  or  Warramunga.^ 
For  here  both  the  negative  and  the  positive  marriage  regu- 
lations are  drastically  determined,  and  the  clans  or  gentes 
do  not  appear  as  units  in  either  connection:  each  clan  (or 
gens)  is  subdivided  into  two  (or  four)  groups,  and  the  in- 
dividuals to  be  avoided  or  sought  in  marriage  are  different 
in  the  case  of  each  one  of  these  groups. 

From  an  examination  of  all  such  tribes — and  their  num- 
ber is  large — one  might  derive  the  impression  that  the  al- 


'See  p.  no. 
*See  pp.  IIO-II2. 


250  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

leged  universality  of  clan  or  gentile  exogamy  represents  but 
another  superannuated  dogma,  that  clans  and  gentes,  while 
exogamous  in  many  instances,  have  in  others  no  connection 
whatsoever  with  matrimony.' 

This  conclusion  would  be  erroneous.  Of  the  functional 
characteristics  of  clans  and  gentes  exogamy  must  still  be  re- 
garded as  the  most  persistent.  But  how,  it  will  be  asked, 
can  this  proposition  be  reconciled  with  the  complications  out- 
lined in  the  foregoing?  A  glance  at  the  world  picture  of 
clan  and  gentile  exogamy  furnishes  the  answer.  First  there 
are  the  tribes  where  clans  or  gentes  appear  as  exogamous 
units.  Then  come  the  other  tribes  where  the  presence  of 
exogamous  moieties  or  phratries  prompts  one  to  describe 
the  exogamy  of  the  minor  units  as  derivative.  Finally,  there 
are  still  other  tribes — primarily  those  of  Australia — where 
each  hereditary  kin  comprises  a  number  of  groups  each  with 
its  own  positive  and  negative  matrimonial  regulations.  But 
one  fact  holds  true  throughout:  nowhere  is  intermarriage 
in  the  clan  or  gens  permitted.  One  is  forced  to  conclude 
that  in  the  absence  of  moieties,  phratries  and  classes,  the  clan 
or  gentile  exogamy  would  still  obtain,  just  as  it  does  when 
these  social  units  stand  alone.  In  other  words,  it  is  in  the 
nature  of  clans  and  gentes  to  function  exogamously — in  the 
negative  sense  of  a  taboo  on  intermarriage  within  the  unit — 
and  in  all  but  a  very  few  instances  they  do  so.^ 


*An  attitude  such  as  this  could  easily  be  derived  from  a  perusal  of  the 
section  on  exogamy  of  my  "Totemism,  An  Analytical  Study"  {Journal  of 
American  Folk-Lore,  1910).  While  characterized  by  an  enthusiasm  born  of 
a  successful  destructive  analysis,  my  attitude  at  the  time  suffered  from  the 
neglect  of  a  broader  historico-geographical  standpoint. 

'It  must  be  noted  here  as  of  great  interest  that  whereas  the  family  and 
local  group  are  as  basic  in  modern  as  in  primitive  society,  that  while  rela- 
tionship groups  and  even  age  and  sex  groups  persist  in  an  attenuated  form 
in  modern  civilization,  clans,  gentes,  maternal  families,  moieties,  phratries 
and  classes  are  characteristic  of  early  society  alone.  In  other  words,  the 
unilateral  hereditary  principle,  in  the  drastic  form  in  which  it  operates  in 
these  groupings,  is  foreign  to  the  spirit  of  our  social  life.  The  principle  itself 
is,  of  course,  present  in  connection  with  the  inheritance  of  property  and  of 
the  family  name,  but  it  does  not  figure  as  a  basis  for  the  formation  of  fixed 
hereditary  groups  into  which  an  individual  is  born  and  to  which  he  belongs 
until  death  and,  in  fact,  beyond,  in  defiance  of  marriage  ties  and  local  resi- 
dence; unless,  indeed,  a  specific  legal  fiction  is  applied,  in  the  form  of  cere- 


SOCIETY  251 

Dual  divisions  or  moieties,  such  as  those  of  the  Tllngit 
and  Haida,  Iroquois,  Winnebago,  Omaha,  and  numerous 
tribes  of  Australia,  are  like  clans  and  gentes  in  many  ways. 
They  are  hereditary  and  unilateral,  either  maternal  or  pa- 
ternal. Usually  but  not  always,  they  have  names.  They 
also  comprise  blood  relatives  as  well  as  assumed  blood  rela- 
tives, although  the  sense  of  relationship  is  here  weaker  than 
in  the  minor  kin  unit.  The  moiety  is  a  much  more  populous 
group;  the  very  fact,  moreover,  that  it  is  subdivided  into 
minor  units  with  strong  relationship  bonds,  is  apt  to  weaken 
this  element  in  the  moiety.^ 

Functionally,  moieties  are  no  more  uniform  than  are  clans. 
It  was  seen  that  the  Iroquois  phratries — which  in  this  case 
are  also  moieties — attend  primarily  to  ceremonies,  that  on 
all  festive  occasions  the  people  at  the  ceremonial  Long 
House  are  divided  into  two  locally  separated  phratric 
groups.  Games,  such  as  ball  and  lacrosse,  are  also  played 
between  the  phratries.  Then,  the  phraties  have  the  obli- 
gation of  burying  each  other's  members.  Also,  the  phratric 
groups  of  clan  chiefs  function  as  the  two  bodies  to  which 
the  name  of  the  candidate  for  chieftainship  is  submitted 
by  the  matron  of  a  maternal  family,  before  the  name  is 
passed  on  to  the  council  of  the  League  for  final  ratification. 

Among  the  Tlingit  and  Haida  the  moiety  plays  a  dis- 
tinctly different  role.     There  is  a  moiety  chief — an  official 


monial  adoption,  as  a  result  of  vrhicb  he  is  detached  from  the  group  of  his 
birth  and  absorbed  in  another  similarly  constituted  group. 

Of  these  groups  the  clan  and  the  gens  are  the  ones  having  the  widest 
geographical  distribution.  It  is,  therefore,  not  surprising  that  these  social 
divisions  should  have  been  regarded  as  not  only  characteristic  of  early 
society  but  as  universal,  at  least  at  certain  of  its  stages.  This,  of  course, 
is  not  the  case. 

'From  moieties  such  as  this  two  other  types  of  social  divisions  must  be 
distinguished.  Dual  divisions  have  been  described  among  the  Yuchi  Indians, 
but  here  these  groups  are  purely  ceremonial  and  instead  of  comprising  clans, 
crossect  them,  so  that  each  clan  contains  members  of  both  divisions.  Dual 
divisions  of  this  type  have  no  connection  with  blood  relationship. 

Then  there  are  phratries  like  the  six  phratries  of  the  Crow  or  those  of 
some  of  the  Southwest  tribes.  These  groups  also  comprise  clans  as  sub- 
divisions, but  have  once  more  no  connection  with  blood  relationship.  Many 
such  phratries,  no  doubt,  represent  secondary  associations  of  clans,  on  a 
ceremonial,   mythological,   or   some   other   basis. 


252  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

unknown  among  the  Iroquois;  insofar  as  the  moieties  are 
named  after  birds  and  animals — Eagle  and  Raven  among 
the  Haida,  Raven  and  Wolf  among  the  Tlingit — the  myth- 
ologies and  traditions  of  the  two  halves  of  the  people  are 
very  different.  Among  the  Tlingit  the  moieties  have  one 
important  ceremonial  function,  as  the  potlatches  are  here 
always  given  between  the  moieties,  never  in  the  same  moiety. 
There  is  also,  as  among  the  Iroquois,  reciprocal  burial. 
But  the  principal  function  of  the  Northwest  moieties  is  the 
control  of  marriage :  they  are  rigorously  exogamous. 

In  central  Australia  the  moieties  are  connected  with  in- 
termarriage, insofar  as  no  unions  are  permitted  within  a 
phratry.  They  also  figure  as  a  basis  of  local  grouping  in 
camping.  In  preparalton  for  the  intichiuma  ceremonies 
members  of  the  opposite  phratry  announce  the  time  at 
which  a  ceremonial  series  is  to  be  performed;  and,  as  part 
of  the  ceremonial  routine  itself,  members  of  the  opposite 
phratry  are  charged  with  the  laborious  task  of  painting  the 
dancers  and  adorning  them  with  bird  down. 

Not  only  are  reciprocal  functions  common  In  moieties,  but 
the  dual  division  of  the  tribe  seems  to  stimulate  among  the 
natives  a  tendency  to  emphasize  contrasts  with  reference 
to  the  two  moieties.  One  moiety  Is  believed  to  be  of  local 
origin,  the  other  to  have  come  from  elsewhere :  or  they  are 
supposed  to  represent  different  physical  types;  or  the  names 
are  contrasting,  as,  for  example,  in  the  case  of  the  wide- 
spread Australian  moiety  names,  Eaglehawk  (white)  and 
Crow  (black).  The  infection  occasionally  spreads  to  the 
investigating  ethnologist,  who  tends  to  take  the  local  theo- 
ries seriously  or  invents  some  similar  ones  of  his  own.  In 
some  instances,  of  course,  the  ethnologist  and  even  the  na- 
tives may  be  rlght.^ 


^It  is  curious  how  well  a  dual  division  lends  itself  to  all  occasions  where 
games,  conflicts,  political  issues  are  involved.  It  has  often  been  remarked 
that  in  democracies  there  either  are  two  parties  or  the  rest  tend  to  group 
themselves  about  the  two  leading  ones,  in  connection  with  parliamentary 
debates,  voting  on  important  issues,  elections.  And  the  contending  parties 
rarely  fail  to  play  the  ancient  black  and  white  game  of  Eaglehawk  and 
Crow,  while  to  a  disinterested  beholder  both  may  well  appear  as  sparrows 


SOCIETY  253 

Two  further  types  of  divisions  belonging  to  the  blood 
relationship  group  are  the  maternal  family  and  the  Austra- 
lian classes.  The  former  was  analyzed  in  the  chapter  on 
the  Iroquois,  the  latter  in  that  on  Australia.  Some  few 
additional  remarks  must  be  made  here  about  these  two  kinds 
of  social  units. 

It  must  have  been  observed  that  the  maternal  family  occu- 
pies an  intermediate  position  between  the  individual  family 
and  the  clan.  The  maternal  family  is  like  the  individual 
family  in  that  it  comprises  only  actual  blood  relatives.  Also, 
it  has  no  name.  Therefore,  there  attaches  to  it  that  vague- 
ness of  outline  as  a  social  unit  which  is  characteristic  of  all 
groups  of  blood  based  on  remembered  relationships.  A 
name  settles  such  difficulties  with  one  stroke.  Now  the  in- 
dividual's status  is  fixed  at  birth,  in  fact  in  advance  of  birth, 
by  the  hereditary  transmission  of  the  group  name,  and  with 
it  as  a  tag,  his  membership  in  the  group  is  both  guaranteed 
and  enforced. 

The  maternal  family  is  like  a  clan  insofar  as  it  is  uni- 
^lateral.  Thus  among  the  League  Iroquois — and  up  to  the 
present,  maternal  families  have  been  identified  only  among 
lese  people^ — this  social  unit  represents  the  working  prin- 


— and  grey    (for  a  candid   expression  of  this  socio-psychological  fact  see 
Heine's  Dissertation) . 

^The  closest  approach  to  the  maternal  family  among  a  non-Iroquois  tribe 
seems  to  occur  among  the  Hopi  of  the  Southwest.  According  to  Dr.  Lowie's 
unpublished  notes,  a  number  of  Hopi  clans,  as  now  constituted,  can  be 
|shown  on  geneological  analysis  to  represent  maternal  families  in  the  sense 
[that  all  of  the  individuals  of  such  a  clan  are  ultimately  traceable  to  one 
[line  of  female  descent.  In  other  clans,  Dr.  Lowie  found  two  or  three  such 
[groups  of  female  descent.  He  suggests,  therefore,  that  the  Hopi  clans  may 
|.have  developed  out  of  maternal  families. 

Of  course,  there  is  a  difference  between  a  clan  which  is  also  a  maternal 
family  insofar  as  all  of  its  members  are  related  through  a  common  line  of 
blood  descent,  as  objectively  demonstrable,  and  a  maternal  family  like  that 
of  the  Iroquois,  which,  comprising  four  or  at  most  five  generations  of  indi- 
viduals living  contemporaneously,  functions  as  a  self-conscious  and  highly 
dynamic  unit  of  a  social  system.  Nevertheless,  the  case  of  the  Hopi  clans,  if 
confirmed  by  further  investigation,  would  provide  an  interesting  extension  to 
the  sweep  of  the  maternal  family  as  a  social  unit.  Dr.  Lowie's  speculations 
as  to  the  origin  of  the  Hopi  clans  out  of  maternal  families  is  supported  as 
a  possibility  by  at  least  one  instance  in  my  Iroquois  experience  where  a 
social  unit,  for  all  intents  and  purposes  a  clan,  has  developed  within  the 
last  two  generations  out  of  a  maternal  family,  originally  a  part  of  a  clan. 


254  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

ciple  of  a  clan.  For  this  reason  it  has  often  been  identi- 
fied and  confused  with  it  by  investigators.  After  what  was 
said  it  will  be  clear  that  the  two  units  are  distinct.  It  has 
been  definitely  established,  moreover,  that  an  Iroquois  clan 
contained  two,  three  or  more  maternal  families,  although 
here  and  there  it  would  occur  that  a  depleted  clan  was  rep- 
resented by  only  one  surviving  maternal  family. 

With  reference  to  the  Australian  classes,  we  need  not 
stop  to  consider  the  theories  that  have  sprung  up  by  the  score 
about  the  origins  of  this  curious  kind  of  social  unit.*  But 
before  leaving  this  topic,  it  is  necessary  to  refer  to  a  serious 
misconception  that  has  crept  into  the  discussion  of  this  topic 
by  Wundt  (see  his  "Elements  of  Folk  Psychology,"  pp.  140 
sq.) .  Wundt  correctly  notes  that  the  clans  among  the  League 
Iroquois  have  no  cult  significance,  whereas  the  animal  and 
bird  named  groups  of  Australia  are  primarily  cult  associa- 
tions. From  this  he  proceeds  to  argue  that  the  Australian 
classes  are  really  clans  (and  he  designates  them  as  such 
forthwith)  ;  that  the  Iroquois  clans  once  comprised  cult  as- 
sociations like  the  Australian  ones,  which  subsequently  dis- 
appeared, leaving  nothing  but  animal  and  bird  named  clans 
behind;  and  that  the  "principle  of  dual  division"  applies  not 
to  the  Australian  classes  alone  but  also  to  the  Iroquois  who, 
Wundt  argues,  first  had  two  phratries,  which  later  broke 
up  into  two  clans  each,  and  the  clans  broke  up  once  more 
into  two,  thus  resulting  in  the  standard  Iroquoian  eight 
clans.  Wundt  extends  this  into  a  general  theory  of  clan 
multiplication  based  on  the  working  of  the  "dual  principle." 

All  this  is  quite  wrong.  The  Australian  classes  and  sub- 
classes are  not  clans,  as  generally  understood,  but  groups 
comprising  certain  categories  of  blood  relatives  and  having 
no  functions  but  to  control  intermarriage.    While  some  in- 


*It  may  be  noted,  however,  that  the  most  feasible  hypothesis  is  probably 
the  one  advanced  some  twenty-five  years  ago  by  Heinrich  Cunow,  the  Ger- 
man sociologist.  A  brief  statement  of  this  theory  will  be  found  in  a  footnote 
of  Boas'  "Mind  of  Primitive  Man,"  p.  221. 


SOCIETY 


255 


stances  occur  where  classes  comprise  whole  clans,  in  the 
majority  of  cases  classes  and  clans  crossect  each  other/ 

The  Australian  clans  with  animal  and  bird  names  are  like 
the  clans  in  other  areas — as  here  defined — although  func- 
tionally they  are,  of  course,  largely  religio-ceremonial  units, 
especially  among  the  Central  Australians  where  owing  to 
the  lapse  of  gentile  heredity  the  gentes  become,  for  all 
practical  purposes,  pure  cult  associations. 

The  Iroquois  clans  never  contained  cult  groups,  nor — 
so  far  as  our  evidence  goes — ever  functioned  as  cult  units. 
Moreover,  Wundt's  derivation  of  the  eight  clans  by  a  double 
bifurcation  of  the  phratrles  Is  purely  imaginary.  It  is  not 
unlikely,  in  fact,  that  the  clans  here  were  the  original  units, 
the  phratries  representing  a  later  arrangement  of  the  clans 
Into  two  ceremonial  groups.  This  theory  Is  supported  by 
the  fact  that  whereas  the  Iroquois  tribes  comprise  clans  of 
the  same  names    (the  Mohawk  and  Oneida  only  having 


'The  working  of  this  arrangement  may  once  more  be  illustrated  by  a 
diagram: 


PhrAtricaf:     I 
Classes-,      A  B 


n 


D 


_  I 


Clans: 


a  ' 


b  -  I 


c  * 


a. 

i- 

+ 

->             r 
1             1 

^                t" 
1                1 
1                1 

T             r 
>             1 

J                 L 

d. 

4 

d^ 

+ 

+ 

+ 

+ 

■t- 

+ 

+ 

7i 

=  d 


'  e 


r-f 


I 


Fig.  52 

For  simplicity  it  is  assumed  here  that  each  phratry,  comprises  only  three 
clans.  The  diagram  shows  that  the  classes  and  clans  intersect.  Each  class 
contains  sections  of  all  three  clans  and  each  clan  comprises  members  of  both 
classes. 

Thus  a  =  ai  (class  A)  -h  ai  (class  B), 
d  =  di  (class  C)  +d2  (class  D), 
and  so  on;  and 

Class  A  =  ai  (clan  a)  +  bi  (clan  b),  +  Ct  (clan  c) 
Class  C  =  di  (clan  d)  +  ei  (clan  e),-\-  U  (clan  /) 
and  so  on. 


256  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

three  each!),  the  grouping  of  the  clans  into  phratries  is  not 
the  same. 

Three  further  kinds  of  grouping  are  to  be  considered. 
They  are  of  a  different  order  from  the  preceding  insofar 
as  the  limits  of  these  groups  cannot  be  fixed  with  the  pre- 
cision attainable  in  the  case  of  the  family  or  those  of  the 
clan,  the  gens,  the  local  group  or  even  a  set  of  relatives 
united  by  blood  bonds.  These  groupings  are  based  on  age, 
generation  and  sex. 

In  all  primitive  societies  age  is  an  important  factor,  in 
some  it  stands  out  very  prominently.  Generally  speaking, 
the  following  rough  classifications  of  individuals  obtains 
practically  everywhere.  First  come  the  infants  or  babies, 
who  are  important  enough  in  their  immediate  families  and 
In  their  relation  to  their  mothers,  but  count  for  little,  often 
for  next  to  nothing,  as  members  of  the  community.  Espe- 
cially before  a  name  is  ceremonially  bestowed  upon  an  infant, 
it  is  in  many  primitive  groups  practically  outside  the  society. 
Its  life  counts  for  naught  and  its  death  Is  of  little  conse- 
quence. The  next  class  is  that  of  children.  These  count  In 
many  ways.  They  are  subject  to  instruction  in  the  affairs 
of  the  household,  in  the  arts  and  crafts,  the  accomplishments 
of  the  hunt  and  the  gathering  of  the  products  of  wild  nature. 
During  this  period,  the  child  usually  begins  to  participate 
in  some  at  least  of  the  ceremonial  activities  of  the  group. 
It  Is  in  general  characteristic  of  primitive  conditions  that 
relatively  young  children,  say  of  the  age  of  eight  or  nine, 
have  already  absorbed  most  of  the  fundamental  Industrial 
accomplishments,  a  great  deal  of  the  ethics  and  much  of  the 
traditional  lore  of  the  group.  The  next  class  Is  that  of 
young  men  and  women,  just  before  and  through  the  period 
of  puberty.  At  this  time  the  girls  become  full-fledged  active 
members  of  the  household,  while  the  boys  may  excel  in  the 
arts  of  the  chase  and  of  war  and  are  emphatically  subject 
to  the  political  and  religious  teachings  emanating  from  the 
old  men,  the  chiefs  and  the  medicine-men.  At  this  time,  also, 
the  important  initiatory  ceremonies  are  performed,  wher- 


SOCIETY  257 

ever  they  are  present,  ushering  the  young  people — and  this 
applies  more  universally  to  men  than  to  women — into  at 
least  the  early  stages  of  the  ceremonial  cycles  of  religious 
or  secret  societies.  The  class  above  this  is  that  of  mature 
men  and  women.  They  are  full-fledged  members  of  the 
group,  participating  in  all  industrial,  religious,  social,  mili- 
tary and  educational  activities  and  forming  the  backbone  of 
family  life.  The  last  and  in  some  respects  most  influential 
group  is  that  of  old  men  and,  in  some  communities,  also  old 
women.  While  these  take  a  less  active  part  in  the  everyday 
activities,  their  leadership  in  ceremonial  and  political  mat- 
ters is  pronounced  and  they  do  everywhere  constitute  the 
great  depositories  of  tradition,  figuring  as  the  mouthpiece,  as 
it  were,  of  the  conservative  status  quo.  They  know  the 
past,  in  fact  they  know  all  there  is  to  be  known,  and  they 
see  to  it  that  this  knowledge  is  passed  on  without  much  loss 
as  well  as  without  much  addition.  They  are  the  great  sta- 
bilizing fly-wheel  of  the  civilizational  mechanism.^ 

The  rigidity  with  which  these  age  classes  are  separated— 
and  this  separation  is  of  course  always  flexible  to  a  degree 
— varies  among  different  tribes.  Thus  the  old  men  are  not 
by  any  means  everywhere  as  influential,  in  fact  all-powerful, 
as  they  are  in  Australia,  nor  are  the  infants  always  so  unim- 
portant and  negligible  as  they  seem  to  be  among  some  of 
the  Melanesian  tribes.^ 


'The  role  of  the  "fathers"  in  the  conflict  of  the  generations  has  been  Tvell 
brought  out  in  the  works  of  Mrs.  Elsie  Clews  Parsons,  who  has  dealt  with 
this  topic  in  a  great  many  articles  as  well  as  in  most  of  her  books.  Cf.,  for 
example,  "The  Old  Fashioned  Woman"  and  "Fear  and  Conventionality." 
Cf.  also  pp.  402-403. 

'The  exaggerated  prestige  of  old  age  is  one  of  the  differentia  of  primitive 
civilization.  While  the  life  wisdom,  sophistication  and  balanced  outlook 
that  come  with  ripening  years  continue  to  command  their  share  of  respect 
even  in  modern  society,  the  prestige  of  old  age  has  been  shaken  by  the 
growing  artificialities  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  and  the  ever-increas- 
ing demands  which  participation  in  social  life  makes  upon  the  energy  and 
vigor  of  its  carriers.  In  a  young,  boisterous  and  hurried  community,  like 
that  of  the  United  States,  age  at  times  appears  as  being  definitely  outclassed, 
so  that  in  many  industrial  and,  not  without  regret  be  it  said,  educational  and 
academic  positions,  young  men  receive  decisive  preference.  In  family  life, 
also,  the  prestige  of  the  highest  age  group  is  visibly  on  the  decline. 

It  is  curious  to  note  that  in  villages  and  on  farms,  where  life  approaches 
in  certain  respects  that  of  more  primitive  communities,  the  prerogatives  of 
old  age  at  once  reassert  themselves. 


2  5  8  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

The  principle  of  generation  never  appears  with  any  great 
distinctness,  but  it  might  be  described  somewhat  as  follows : 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  middle-aged  men  and  women, 
they  themselves  represent  the  present  generation,  below 
this  is  the  generation  of  the  children,  and  below  this,  that 
of  the  grandchildren.  Above  the  present  generation  is  that 
of  the  mothers  and  fathers,  and  above  this,  that  of  the  grand- 
parents. This  rough  classification  of  the  generations  is 
especially  noticeable  in  the  study  of  relationships,  where 
terms  are  often  used  to  cover  individuals  of  one  or  both 
sexes  belonging  to  one  generation.  It  has  also  been  ob- 
served that  the  memory  of  informants  in  ethnological 
field  work  runs  most  naturally  along  generation  lines.  In 
obtaining  information  on  the  basis  of  genealogies,  for  ex- 
ample, it  is  usually  preferable  to  first  group  the  questions 
around  individuals  who  belong  to-  the  same  generation 
rather  than  to  begin  by  following  up  each  line  of  descent, 
upward  and  downward,  to  the  limits  of  the  informant's 
memory. 

This  principle  obtains  to  a  degree  also  in  modern  society. 
Men  and  women  of  the  same  generation  share  certain  ele- 
ments of  knowledge,  habit  and  attitude  which  create  a 
bond  and  vaguely  separate  them  from  preceding  and  suc- 
ceeding generations. 

The  one  remaining  grouping  Is  that  on  the  basis  of  sex. 
While  this  principle  of  classification  has  often  been  exag- 
gerated— ^by  Schurtz,  for  example,  who  builds  upon  it  his 
entire  theory  of  social  organization — it  is  undeniable 
that  the  sex  division  gives  rise  to  a  set  of  formal  and 
functional  divisions  in  society,  and  that  this  is  on  the  whole 
more  emphatically  true  of  primitive  than  of  modem  com- 
munities, although  certain  forms  of  discrimination  against 
women.  In  particular,  are  characteristic  of  later  rather  than 
of  earliest  civilizations. 

It  might  prove  of  Interest  to  discuss  this  aspect  of  the 
subject  under  the  heading  of  the  disabilities  of  women. 


SOCIETY  259 

The  Disabilities  of  Women 

It  must  have  appeared  from  the  foregoing  discussion  that 
with  reference  to  the  primary  economic  pursuits,  a  division 
of  labor  between  men  and  women  is  practically  universal. 
The  division  persists  in  the  wider  domain  of  economic  life 
and  Industry,  except  that  here  the  line  is  less  sharply  drawn. 
The  case  of  the  Iroquois  will  be  recalled,  where  the  making 
of  clearings  in  the  woods  in  preparation  for  agriculture,  is 
largely  the  work  of  men,  while  the  agricultural  activities 
themselves  fall  wholly  to  the  share  of  women.  The  erec- 
tion of  the  bark  houses,  again.  Is  a  task  in  which  the  sexes 
cooperate.  Among  the  tribes  of  the  Plains,  women  tan  the 
buffalo  hides,  make  the  tents,  as  well  as  erect  and  raise  them 
when  camp  Is  made  and  broken.  The  preparation  of  cloth- 
ing, whether  by  sewing  or  otherwise,  is  throughout  North 
America  in  the  hands  of  women,  while  men  are,  without 
exception,  the  wood  workers  and  carvers  of  the  Northwest 
Coast,  and  elsewhere  In  North  America  where  wood  industry 
occurs.  That  wood  work  is  a  man's  art  can,  in  fact,  be 
stated  as  a  general  principle,  for  it  applies  everywhere  in 
primitive  society  where  there  Is  work  In  wood. 

Women  are  the  basket  makers  of  California  and  of  the 
Plateau  tribes  and  the  potters  of  the  Southwest.  In  Negro 
Africa  as  well  as  In  India,  wherever  pots  are  fashioned  by 
hand,  the  potters  are  generally,  although  not  invariably, 
women.  But  In  both  these  areas  there  are  certain  districts 
where  pots  are  turned  on  the  wheel ;  and  here  men  are  the 
potters.  Again,  it  is  commonly,  although  not  uniformly, 
true  that  early  agriculture  Is  in  the  hands  of  women,  and 
that  this  important  series  of  activities  passes  into  the  domain 
of  men  only  after  the  introduction  of  domesticated  animals 
as  helpmates  In  agriculture. 

From  the  above  presentation,  which  might  be  further  ex- 
tended, the  economic  division  of  labor  in  early  society  seems 
fairly  equitable.  It  would,  however,  be  an  error  to  con- 
clude that  in  primitive  economy  there  is  no  woman's  dis- 


26o  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

ability.  An  inspection  of  the  important  domain  of  prop- 
erty ownership  would  promptly  dispel  all  such  illusions. 
There  are,  without  question,  instances  where  the  economic 
prerogatives  of  women  are  wholly  on  a  par  with  those  of 
men.  Of  this  the  American  Iroquois  and  ZunI  and  the 
KhasI  of  Assam  may  serve  as  examples.  But  these  are 
exceptions.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that  among  many 
primitive  tribes  descent  of  group  membership  follows  the 
mother.  But  Inheritance  of  property  is  not  always  pat- 
terned after  the  descent  of  group  membership ;  in  Australia, 
for  example,  the  general  rule  Is  that  proprietary  rights, 
Including  such  features  as  ceremonial  prerogatives,  are  In- 
herited In  the  paternal  line,  without  regard  to  whether  de- 
scent Is  through  the  father  or  the  mother. 

Again,  on  the  Northwest  Coast  of  America  there  is  both 
maternal  descent  and  maternal  inheritance  of  property  and 
privileges,  but  much  of  the  material  and  spiritual  property 
thus  passed  on  through  the  women,  is  not  actually  utilized 
or  controlled  by  them,  this  right  falling  to  the  mother's 
brother  or  to  some  other  maternal  relative. 

This  androcentric  trend  of  property  and  proprietary  pre- 
rogatives, a  trend  only  less  characteristic  of  the  present  than 
It  was  of  the  past,  has  played  an  important  part  In  history 
and  pre-history.  Everywhere  and  always,  it  has  reflected  as 
well  as  enhanced  that  systematic  disenfranchisement  of 
woman  which  constitutes  one  of  the  least  pleasing  aspects 
of  human  civilization.. 

In  art,  the  division  of  labor  between  men  and  women 
prevails  everywhere.  As  the  plastic  arts  are  in  their  origin 
and  development  closely  related  to  Industry,  It  is  to  be  ex- 
pected that  the  artistic  embellishment  of  objects  would  fall 
to  the  lot  of  their  makers.  This  is  actually  the  case.  Thus, 
among  the  Eskimo  and  the  tribes  of  Northeastern  Siberia, 
women  are  responsible  for  the  relatively  simple  decorations 
In  embroidery  and  applique  on  the  fur  garments,  which  they 
also  cut  and  sew,  while  the  men  do  all  the  carving  and 
etching  on  bone  for  which  these  arctic  tribes  are  noted.    The 


SOCIETY  261 

elaborate  wood  Industry  of  the  tribes  of  British  Columbia 
and  Southern  Alaska  is  entirely  in  the  control  oilmen,  in- 
cluding the  Intricate  and  In  part  highly  finished  carvings  and 
paintings  on  totem  poles  and  memorial  columns,  boxes, 
spoons  and  canoes.  The  famous  blankets  are,  of  course, 
woven  by  women,  but  in  this  case  all  sesthetic  activities  are 
so  thoroughly  swayed  by  the  man-made  art,  that  the  highly 
conventionalized  designs  woven  into  the  blankets  are  easily 
discerned  to  be  but  slavish  reproductions  of  patterns  bor- 
rowed from  the  wood  technique,  which  are  painted  by 
men  on  wooden  boards  and  copied  by  the  women  weavers. 

The  decorative  patterns  of  Californlan  baskets  and  Pu- 
eblo pots  are  altogether  the  product  of  woman's  imagina- 
tion and  skill.  In  the  Plains,  the  embroidery  In  porcupine 
quill  or  beads  on  garments,  moccasins,  bags  and  sheaths,  is 
always  made  by  women,  who  also  tan  the  skins,  design  and 
cut  the  patterns,  and  sew  them  together  into  various  ar- 
ticles of  wear  and  use.  A  point  of  interest  in  this  connec- 
tion is  that  the  symbolism  of  the  moccasin  designs  is  often 
suggested  by  a  man  who  asks  a  woman  to  make  him  a  pair, 
but  the  design  itself  is  originated  and  carried  out  by  the 
woman.  The  paintings  on  the  tents  and  shields  of  this  area 
are  made  by  men,  but  the  style  of  these  semi-decorative, 
semi-pictographic  productions  is  entirely  different  from  the 
art  of  women.  There  is  a  marked  tendency  toward  realism 
and  an  almost  complete  absence  of  the  highly  characteristic 
geometrical  designs  of  the  woman-made  articles. 

Among  the  Iroquois,  men  execute  the  rather  crude,  mildly 
realistic  carvings  in  wood  or  bone  with  which  they  adorn 
their  houses,  some  household  utensils  and  ceremonial  ar- 
ticles. Men  also  make  the  wampum  belts  with  their  sym- 
bolic figures  carried  out  in  colored  wampum  beads.  Men, 
finally,  carve  and  paint  the  False  Face  masks,  grotesque 
distortions  of  the  human  countenance,  with  a  style  all  their 
own.  Woman's  art  among  these  people  is  of  a  totally  dif- 
ferent order.  It  consists  of  embroidery  in  wampum  or  glass 
beads,  on  shirts,  skirts  and  moccasins.     The  patterns  used 


262  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

in  this  embroidery  are  taken  exclusively  from  the  plant 
kingdom,  and  represent  flowers  and  leaves  in  different  stages 
of  development,  in  a  style  which  combines  distinct  features 
of  conventionalization  with  suggestive  touches  of  realism. 

The  conditions  thus  found  prevailing  in  North  America 
are  equally  typical  of  the  art  life  of  other  primitive  areas. 
In  Melanesia  and  Polynesia,  for  example,  the  elaborate 
work  in  wood,  shell  and  stone  is  carried  out  by  men  artists, 
while  the  manufacture  and  decoration  of  tapa,  the  famous 
Polynesian  bark  cloth,  is  an  industry  monopolized  by 
women. 

In  early  art,  therefore,  there  is  no  woman's  disability. 

In  religion  woman  is  scarcely  anywhere  on  a  level  of 
equality  with  man.  It  is  true  that  some  religious  customs, 
such  as  the  cult  of  the  guardian  spirit  in  North  America, 
apply  to  women  and  men  alike.  Even  here,  however,  there 
is  some  difference :  as  one  examines  tribe  after  tribe,  the 
supernatural  experiences  seem  to  apply  more  regularly  to 
men  than  they  do  to  women;  in  other  instances  the  cult  is 
less  elaborate  when  applied  to  women;  in  still  others,  the 
experiences  of  women  are  patently  copied  after  those  of 
men,  as  is  the  case,  for  example,  among  the  Iroquois,  as 
well  as  among  some  of  the  Salish  speaking  tribes  of  the 
interior  of  British  Columbia.  Religious  societies  are  known 
to  occur  in  North  America  to  which  only  women  are  ad- 
mitted, but  these  are  rare.  All  in  all,  participation  in  these 
semi-esoteric  brotherhoods  is  distinctly  a  man's  privilege. 
This  applies  equally  to  the  Pueblo  and  the  Plains,  the  Wood- 
land and  the  Northwest.  Again,  while  medicine-women 
are  not  unknown  among  the  Indians,  the  magic  healers  as 
well  as  the  shamans  of  the  northern  continent  are  almost 
invariably  men. 

What  is  generally  true  in  North  America  applies  with 
almost  unfailing  rigor  in  Melanesia  and  Australia.  The 
secret  societies  of  Melanesia  are  men's  societies,  and  the 
ceremonial  edifices  in  which  these  organizations  hold  their 
sessions   and  performances   are    "Men\   Houses."     The 


SOCIETY  263 

priests,  who  are  important  personages  in  Melanesia,  are  also 
men,  never  women.  With  reference  to  Australia,  it  was 
shown  before  that  the  power  to  work  magic  was  not  re- 
stricted to  men ;  but  apart  from  that,  the  religious  disabilities 
of  women  are  pronounced.  In  Central  Australia,  every  wo- 
man owns  her  sacred  slab  or  churinga,  but  she  may  never  see 
it;  even  the  spot  where  the  churinga  are  hidden  is  supposed 
to  remain  unknown  to  the  women.  The  entire  cycle  of  to- 
temic  ceremonies,  which  constitute  the  very  crucible  of  the 
religio-ceremonial  life  of  these  natives,  is  taboo  to  the  wo- 
men. Not  only  may  they  not  participate,  but  they  are  for- 
bidden even  to  witness  the  performances.  The  only  public 
ceremonies  to  which  women  are  admitted  are  the  rites  of  ini- 
tiation and  some  of  the  funeral  rituals.  The  initiation  cere- 
monies mark  the  passing  of  the  young  boys  from  the  control 
of  women,  and  it  is  here  that  the  initiates  are  first  told  by  the 
old  men  of  some  of  those  secrets  the  women  are  never  to 
know,  such  as  the  real  identity  of  Twanyirika,  the  mysterious 
spirit  that  is  supposed  to  emit  the  weird  sounds  accompany- 
ing these  ceremonies.  Henceforth  the  boys  are  aware  that 
the  sounds  are  produced  by  a  bull-roarer  whirled  about  by  an 
old  man  hidden  In  the  bush,  and  by  and  by  some  of  them 
learn  to  do  it  themselves. 

On  some  Islands  of  the  Malay  Archipelago,  as  well  as  in 
Negro  Africa,  the  participation  of  women  In  religious  life 
is  more  pronounced,  especially  In  the  capacities  of  mediums 
and  of  priestesses,  but  here  also  their  prerogatives  are  far 
from  attaining  a  common  level  with  those  of  men. 

It  would,  of  course,  be  absurd  to  assert  that  woman  is 
excluded  from  religious  life.  The  limitation  of  her  partici- 
pation falls  In  the  domains  of  privileges,  of  official  repre- 
sentation, as  well  as  of  creatlveness,  such  as  Is  manifested 
in  the  rationalizing  activities  of  priests  and  the  visions  of 
prophets,  the  originators  of  new  religions.  Women's  pas- 
sive part  in  religion  was  at  all  times  at  least  equal  to  that  of 
man;  and  if  pre-hlstory  Is  to  be  judged  by  history,  her  role  as 


264  EARLY  CIVILIZATION 

a  recipient  and  tool  of  religion  must  have  always  been  pro- 
nounced, perhaps  more  so  than  that  of  man. 

The  most  categorical  of  woman's  disabilities  in  early  soci- 
ety are  the  political  ones.  In  social  life,  the  economic  im- 
portance of  primitive  woman  ever  tends  to  raise  her  to  a 
level  of  approximate  equality  with  man.  She  is,  for  ex- 
ample, the  mistress  of  the  home,  where  her  activities  in  the 
capacity  of  housekeeper,  mother,  nurse  and  wife  are  indis- 
pensable. The  home  is  thus  not  only  woman's  place  but 
her  kingdom;  the  validity  of  this  dictum,  moreover,  ante- 
dates the  very  existence  of  a  home  in  any  but  a  metaphorical 
sense. 

Apart  from  a  few  highly  exceptional  cases,  women  are 
never  chiefs  in  North  America,  and  the  same  is  true  of  the 
tribes  of  Northeastern  Siberia. 

In  Australia  the  arbiters  of  the  fates  of  the  young  are 
always  the  old  men,  never  the  old  women.  The  powerful 
chiefs  of  Polynesia  are  males,  and  so  are  the  relatively  in- 
significant chiefs  of  Melanesia. 

In  Africa  the  situation  is  somewhat  different.  As  was 
shown  before,  the  king  is  here  associated  with  two  queens, 
his  mother  and  his  sister,  personages  of  great  prestige  and 
considerable  actual  power.  A  woman,  however,  can  never 
become  the  supreme  ruler  of  the  state,  nor  does  the  fact 
that  some  women  become  queens,  in  any  way  represent  the 
political  status  of  African  women.  In  all  matters  pertaining 
to  political  office  and  functions,  their  disenfranchisement  is 
tomplete,  even  as  was  that  of  European  women  under 
Queen  Elizabeth,  Catherine  II,  or  Maria  Theresa.  The 
ministers  serving  an  African  king  are  always  men,  and  so 
are  all  public  officials  down  to  the  pettiest  chief/ 


'The  impatient  ivhy?  aroused  by  this  enumeration  of  woman's  disabili- 
ties cannot  be  answered  here.  It  may  be  noted,  however,  that  the  basic 
politico-economic  disenfranchisement  of  woman  goes  back,  in  the  main,  to 
a  more  primary  fact,  namely  the  monopolization  by  man  of  the  weapons 
and  acts  of  war.  Thus  the  tragedy  of  woman  symbolizes,  in  the  last  in- 
stance, the  enslavement  of  the  powers  of  peace  by  the  powers  of  war. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SOCIETY   (Continued) 
The  Foundations  of  Society  (Continued) 

In  looking  back  upon  the  impressive  array  of  social 
forms  passed  in  review  in  the  preceding  chapter,  one  fact 
stands  out  with  great  clearness:  society  has  seized  upon 
a  large  number,  if  not  all  possible,  kinds  of  relation,  spacial, 
temporal  and  organic,  of  man  to  nature  and  of  man  to 
man;  and  on  the  basis  of  these  relations,  social  divisions 
ha^e  grown  up.  First,  there  is  the  spacial  relation,  the 
territory  occupied  by  the  group.  This  is  the  foundation 
of  local  groups,  villages,  towns,  tribal  territories  and  states. 
Then  there  is  the  organic  relation,  which  appears  in  two 
forms,  actual  blood  relationship  and  assumed  or  fictitious 
blood  relationship.  Actual  blood  relationship  is  repre- 
sented in  the  ties  connecting  children  with  their  parents  in 
a  family,^  or  the  members  of  an  Iroquoian  maternal  family, 
or  the  individuals  comprised  in  one  of  those  loose  groups 
covered  by  a  system  of  relationship.  Fictitious  or  assumed 
blood  relationship  is  represented  in  such  groups  as  the  clan, 
the  gens,  the  dual  division  (in  many  instances)  and  the 
Australian  classes  and  sub-classes.  Then  there  is  the  group- 
ing based  on  sex.  And  finally  come  the  two  forms  of  tem- 
poral relation  of  man  to  man,  as  comprised  in  the  principles 
of  age  and  generation. 

Now,  the  units  based  on  these  different  principles  all  per- 
form multifarious  functions  in  society.  In  fact,  the  civili- 
zational  status  of  a  social  division  is  no  more  and  no  less 
than  the  sum  total  of  its  functional  relations  to  society. 
As  aforesaid,  a  social  unit  is  what  it  does.     For  this  reason 


*0f  course,  it  must  be  remembered,  as  noted  before,  that  only  the  rela- 
tion of  parents  to  children  and  vice  versa,  is  strictly  organic  or  biological. 
The  relation  of  the  parents  to  each  other,  on  the  other  hand,  unless  they 
happen  to  be  blood  relatives,  is  a  reciprocal  functional  relationship,  such 
as  is  implied  in  the  sex  tie  and  the  correlated  psychological  attitudes. 

265 


266  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

it  has  often  been  felt  that  It  would  be  both  scientifically 
justifiable  and  most  convenient  if  social  units  could  be  de- 
fined by  their  functions.  This,  unfortunately,  cannot  be 
done,  for  the  simple  reason  that  the  functions  of  the  differ- 
ent social  units  constantly  overlap.  In  fact,  some  functions 
occur  in  connection  with  all  of  the  social  units  enumerated. 
Such,  for  example,  are  ceremonial  rites.  Economic  func- 
tions are  exercised  by  families,  clans  or  gentes,  local  groups, 
sex  groups.  Political  functions  may  be  exercised  by  fam- 
ilies, clans,  phratries,  tribes  or  groups  of  tribes.  And  so  it 
goes,  throughout  the  entire  line  of  possible  social  functions. 
Thus,  not  only  must  the  idea  of  terminological  differentia- 
tion between  social  units,  based  on  functional  distinctions,  be 
given  up  except  in  specific  instances  and  places,  but  it  also  be- 
comes clear  that  in  their  civilizational  status  the  different 
kinds  of  social  units  may  often  be  equivalent  to  one  another. 
A  clan  in  one  tribe  may  stand  for  what  a  family  represents 
in  another,  a  local  group  here  may  mean  the  same  that  a 
phratry  or  dual  division  stands  for  there,  a  tribe  or  group 
of  tribes  may  function  In  one  place  as  a  clan  or  a  village 
or  an  age  group  function  in  another.  One  must  be  warned, 
therefore,  against  accepting  this  analytical  presentation  of 
social  units  too  pedantically,  as  it  were,  for  the  lines  of 
demarcation  between  the  different  units  are  not  by  any 
means  always  distinct,  either  when  Identical  units  are  com- 
pared in  different  tribes  or  even  when  different  units  in  one 
and  the  same  tribe  are  juxtaposed.  The  analytical  dis- 
tinctions Introduced  are  nevertheless  of  the  greatest  sig- 
nificance, insofar  as  they  aid  to  present  the  principal  forms 
of  social  units  and  insofar,  also,  as  they  disclose  the  basic 
natural  roots  of  social  structure. 

This  does  not  complete  the  survey  of  social  units,  for  in 
all  primitive  society  there  are  discernible  still  other  groups 
which,  In  distinction  from  those  enumerated  above,  are 
purely  functional. 

Among  these  groups  those  based  on  industrial  lines  may 
be  mentioned  first.    It  is,  of  course,  true  that  in  early  times 


SOCIETY  267 

industrial  specialization  was  relatively  inconspicuous,  that 
each  family  resembled  every  other  family  In  Its  Industrial 
functioning,  and  that  a  large  number  of  the  individuals  of 
a  tribe  could  and  did  perform  the  same  economic  functions. 
This  view,  however,  constitutes  but  an  approximation  of  the 
truth,  and  Is  mainly  valuable  when  a  contrast  is  drawn  be- 
tween modern  and  primitive  conditions.  For  industrial  spe- 
cialization Is  old  Indeed.  Thus,  one  finds  that  in  communi- 
ties like  the  Halda  and  Tlingit,  where  all  men  pass  as  wood 
workers,  or  like  the  Zufii  and  Hopi,  where  all  women  can 
qualify  as  pot  makers,  or  like  the  Maidu,  where  the  same 
may  be  said  of  the  women  basket  workers,  there  is  notice- 
able a  distinction  between  those  who  are  but  average  work- 
ers and  those  who  have  become  experts,  and  to  that  extent 
there  is  an  incipient  specialization  of  an  Industrial  group, 
over  and  above  the  sex  specialization.  Even  In  the  much 
cruder  industrial  conditions  of  Australia,  the  specialization 
of  the  men  of  certain  localities  In  the  manufacture  of  one 
or  another  weapon,  has  been  noted.  In  certain  Australian 
tribes  the  messengers^  constitute  a  class  by  themselves.  In 
more  advanced  communities,  such  as  the  Negroes  of  Africa 
or  the  Polynesians,  industrial  differentiation  has  proceeded 
much  further.  Among  many  of  the  Bantu  speaking  Negro 
tribes,  the  agriculturists  and  the  herdsmen  are  separated  into 
veritable  classes  of  society.  There  also  one  finds  the  salt 
diggers,  the  Ironsmlths  and  the  silversmiths  and  the  mer- 
chants. In  Polynesia,  the  boat  makers  constitute  an  ancient 
and  honored  class. 

Another  type  of  functional  grouping  is  represented  by  the 
various  kinds  of  societies  or  associations,  religious,  military, 
medicinal.  Such  societies  are  widely  distributed  in  the  primi- 
tive world.  They  thrive  in  northern  Melanesia,  in  West 
Africa,  among  the  Indians  of  Brazil,  and  in  a  number  of 
wide  tribal  areas  In  North  America.  The  societies  may  be 
purely  male  or  purely  female  or  mixed.  Admission  to 
membership  may  be  based  on  age,  guardian  spirit  initiation 

'See  p.  277. 


268  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

or  payment  by  an  individual  or  a  group  of  individuals. 
The  functions  of  the  societies  may  be  purely  religious  and 
ceremonial,  which  is  most  frequently  the  case,  or  medicinal 
in  addition,  as  for  example,  among  the  Iroquois  and  the 
Zuni,  or  military,  as  in  certain  well  known  Plains  organi- 
zations, or  juridical,  as  in  Melanesia  and  West  Africa. 
But  what  is  characteristic  of  all  of  these  instances  Is  that 
the  bond  between  the  members  of  a  society  remains  a  purely 
functional  one;  remove  the  common  functions,  and  the  or- 
ganization based  upon  these  must  also  disappear.^ 

Still  other  groups  are  based  on  the  principles  of  birth 
and  inheritance  of  privileges,  and  birth  and  occupation.  An 
illustration  of  the  birth  and  privilege  grouping  is  found  on 
the  Northwest  Coast,  where  the  hereditary  prerogative  of 
chieftainship,  with  all  its  accruing  distinctions,  belongs  to 
the  class  of  nobles.  The  same  is  true  of  many  groups  in 
Polynesia.  The  reverse  situation  is  found  in  the  case  of 
slaves.  This  institution  is  a  much  more  widespread  phenom- 
enon in  primitive  society  than  has  often  been  supposed,  for 
it  is  common  in  Polynesia,  Africa  and  North  America.  Bar- 
ring those  instances  where  a  slave  or  a  descendant  of  a 
slave  may  pass  into  another  social  class,  a  man  born  a  slave 
dies  a  slave,  and  with  this  status  there  go  the  inevitable 
restrictions  in  social  participation. 

The  best  known  instance  of  the  birth  and  occupation  prin- 
ciple are  the  Indian  castes,  where  different  occupational 
groupings  have  become  hereditary,  and  with  this  occupa- 
tional status  there  go  the  well  known  privileges  and  restric- 
tions, social,  ceremonial,  matrimonial.  Caste-like  traits  are 
also  observed,  for  example,  in  the  Baganda  gentes,  with 
their  hereditary  specialization  in  different  industrial  pur- 
suits. 

In  connection  with  hereditary  or  acquired  privileges,  the 
principle  of  rank  makes  its  appearance.^     Rank  may  be 


'For  a  much  more  extended  treatment  of  societies,  the  reader  is  referred  to 
Dr.  Lowie's  "Primitive  Society,"  Chapter  X,  "Associations." 

'Here  the  reader  is  once  more  referred  to  Lowie's  "Primitive  Society," 
Chapter  XII,  "Rank." 


SOCIETY  269 

static,  as  when  different  social  classes  are  firmly  fixed  by  birth 
and  are  kept  apart  with  greater  or  less  stringency.  Rank 
may  also  be  dynamic  as,  for  example,  in  the  graded  societies 
of  the  American  Plains  or  of  Mota  (one  of  the  Banks 
Islands). 

Again,  riches — although  perhaps  without  all  of  the 
strictly  economic  connotations  of  the  modern  idea — may  be- 
come the  mark  of  a  group  with  somewhat  fluctuating  out- 
lines, as  is  so  commonly  the  case  among  the  Bantu  speaking 
herd  owners  of  Africa  and  the  reindeer  breeding  Chuk- 
chee,  Koryak,  or  Tungus,  of  Northeastern  Siberia. 

In  comparing  these  purely  functional  groupings  of  society 
with  those  based  on  spacial,  temporal  or  organic  factors, 
one  may  distinguish  the  two  by  designating  the  latter  as 
groups  of  status,  the  former  as  groups  of  function.  The 
groups  of  status  are  based  on  principles  which  flow  directly 
from  certain  relations  that  obtain  between  man  and  Nature 
and  man  and  man,  and  imply  civilization  only  in  a  most  gen- 
eral sense,  the  psychological  proclivity  of  mankind  to  form 
groups  on  the  basis  of  such  lines  of  cleavage  always  being 
taken  for  granted.  The  groups  of  function,  on  the  other 
hand,  emphatically  presuppose  civilization,  as  these  func- 
tions are  really  the  dynamic  aspects  of  civilization,  and  the 
groupings  are  built  up  into  social  units  on  the  basis  of  com- 
mon functional  preoccupations. 

In  the  concrete  life  of  a  tribe  these  distinctions  between 
the  two  kinds  of  groupings  are  not  by  any  means  always 
marked.  A  clan  that  exercises  a  ceremonial  function  like 
that  of  a  religious  society  in  the  same  or  In  another  tribe, 
is  to  that  extent  equivalent  to  that  religious  society.  A 
family  or  local  group  which  specializes  in  an  industrial 
pursuit  is  equivalent  to  a  corresponding  industrial  group 
in  another  tribe,  the  only  bond  of  union  of  whose  members 
is  that  of  their  industrial  occupation.  The  blurring  of  the 
distinction  between  the  groups  of  status  and  those  of  func- 
tion is,  moreover,  precipitated  by  the  fact  that  both  kinds 
of  groups  tend  to  assume  new  functions,  or,  it  may  be,  lose 


270  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

some  of  the  old  ones.  However  that  may  be,  the  comparison 
of  the  two  kinds  of  groups  reveals  an  Important  sociological 
principle.  It  is  this :  social  divisions  of  whatever  proveni- 
ence ever  tend  to  exercise  cultural  functions  and  to  assume 
new  ones;  functions,  on  the  other  hand,  ever  tend  to  attach 
themselves  to  pre-existing  social  units  or  to  create  new  ones. 
In  concluding  this  survey  of  social  units  and  their  func- 
tions, it  must  also  be  noted  that  a  member  of  a  primitive 
tribe  is  usually  subject  to  the  simultaneous  control  of  a  con- 
siderable number  of  such  units.  He  is  a  family  man  and 
a  clansman,  a  member  of  a  local  group  and  of  one  or  more 
grades  of  a  society  or  of  several  societies;  he  functions  as 
part  of  an  age,  sex,  generation  and  relationship  group,  and 
he  may  also  share  in  the  privileges  and  obligations  of  an  in- 
dustrial or  a  hereditary  rank  group.  Thus  the  intellectual 
and  emotional  participation  of  an  individual  becomes  highly 
complex.  On  the  general  background  of  the  mental  disposi- 
tion of  early  society,  these  multifarious  participations  carry 
with  them  much  that  is  characteristic  of  the  behavior,  the 
emotional  attitude  and  the  intellectual  outlook  of  early  man.^ 

Political  Organization 

In  a  sense,  political  organization  is  one  phase  of  social 
organization.  But  there  are  historical  as  well  as  socio- 
psychological  reasons  for  making  a  distinction,  and  in  the 
history  of  the  subject  such  a  distinction  has  usually  been 
made.  Political  organization  proceeds  from  a  tribe  to 
intertribal  relations  and  to  the  integration  of  tribes  into 
higher  political  units.  Social  organization  proceeds  from  a 
tribe  or  nation  to  the  social  subdivisions  comprised  in  it. 
Speaking  in  general  terms,  political  organization  tends 
toward  integration,  social  organization  toward  differen- 
tiation.^ 


^Cf.  pp.  414-415. 

It  is  not  implied  that  this  distinction  is  inherent  and  inevitable.  Certain 
recent  tendencies  may  serve  as  proof  of  the  opposite.  It  is  true  that  political 
integration  still  continues  in  the  form  of  imperialistic  expansion,  alliances, 


SOCIETY  271 

We  have  discussed  the  League  of  the  Iroquois,  as  a 
high  type  of  American  tribal  federation,  and  the  state  of 
the  Baganda,  as  an  example  of  African  political  integration. 
There  remain  many  further  problems  of  primitive  politics 
which,  for  lack  of  space,  can  only  be  indicated  here.  The 
general  political  democracy  of  America  and  the  prevailing 
limitation  of  the  power  of  chiefs;  the  striking  similarities 
of  African  states  to  those  of  ancient  Asia  and  Europe,  their 
growth  by  conquest  and  consequent  territorial  expansion, 
their  dependence  on  edicts,  roads,  tribute,  taxes  and  "graft" ; 
the  three  types  of  states  in  Africa:  the  bureaucratic  (Ba- 
ganda), the  type  characterized  by  a  religio-ceremonial  exal- 
tation of  the  king  (Dahomey),  and  the  military  state  (Zulu 
Kaffirs)  ;  the  slight  development  of  chieftainship  and  of 
political  unity  and  control  in  Melanesia,  where  secret  soci- 
eties take  over  much  of  what  in  other  places  is  the  business 
of  the  state;  the  military  chieftains  of  Polynesia,  with  their 
curiously  exaggerated  power  of  the  imposition  of  taboo  and 
their  retinue  of  genealogising  priests — all  of  these  and  many 
other  interesting  phases  of  the  subject  must  be  passed  over 
in  silence. 

But  before  leaving  the  topic  of  political  organization,  we 
must  supplement  the  two  sketches  of  relatively  higher  or- 
ganized political  systems  by  a  few  remarks  on  the  political 
organization  of  the  tribes  of  Southeast  Australia.  Although 
politically  amorphous,  these  tribes  do  not  fail  to  present  in- 
teresting illustrations  of  individual  influence  and  promi- 
nence. 

Among  the  Dieri,  the  oldest  man  of  a  totem  is  a  pinnaru 
or  headman.  While  he  may  occupy  this  position  by  dint 
of  his  age  alone,  he  will  not  become  the  headman  of  a  local 
division,  embracing  sections  of  many  clans,  or  of  a  tribe, 

and  International  tendencies,  and  that  such  minor  group*  as  families  or 
local  communities  still  are  and  always  will  remain  the  basic  elements  of 
social  organization.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  marked  tendency  toward 
political  differentiation  in  such  principles  as  national  self-determination  and 
local  autonomy,  while  elements  of  social  organization,  such  as  industries, 
societies,  clubs  and  churches,  display  equally  conspicuous  leanings  toward 
international  expansion  and  integration. 


272  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

unless  he  has  achieved  distinction  as  a  fighting  man,  or  medi- 
cine-man or  orator.  The  headmen  of  a  tribe,  in  a  body,  are 
the  seat  of  political  power. 

Thus,  while  age  alone  is  insufficient  claim  for  supreme 
political  prestige,  it  does  count  for  a  great  deal,  as  is  seen, 
for  example,  in  the  case  of  the  Yaurorka  headman  cited  by 
Howitt,  who  was  almost  childish  from  old  age  and  had  to 
be  carried  about,  but  whose  prestige  remained  unshaken. 

Together  with  the  headmen,  the  old  men  in  their  leisure 
hours  instructed  the  young  men  in  the  laws  of  the  tribe  and 
in  the  proprieties  of  conduct;  and  the  old  women  instructed 
the  young  girls. 

The  prominence  to  which  some  of  these  headmen  attain 
among  their  people  is  illustrated  by  the  following  quotation 
from  Howitt,  whose  statement  is  based  on  the  observations 
of  S.  Gason,  an  officer  of  the  South  Australian  Mounted 
Police,  and  refers  to  Jalina-piramurana,  who,  in  the  early 
sixties  was  the  head  of  the  Kunaura  totem  and  the  recog- 
nized leader  of  the  Dieri  tribe:  "He  has  described  him 
to  me  as  a  man  of  persuasive  eloquence,  a  skilful  and  brave 
fighting-man,  and  a  powerful  medicine-man.  From  his 
polished  manner  the  whites  called  him  'the  Frenchman.'  He 
was  greatly  feared  by  his  own  and  the  neighboring  tribes. 
Neither  his  brothers  (both  of  them  inferior  to  him  in 
bravery  and  oratorical  power)  nor  the  elder  men  presumed 
to  interfere  with  his  will,  or  to  dictate  to  the  tribe,  except 
in  minor  matters.  He  decided  disputes,  and  his  decisions 
were  received  without  appeal.  The  neighboring  tribes  sent 
messengers  to  him  with  presents  of  bags,  Pitcheri,  red  ochre, 
skins,  and  other  things.  He  decided  when  and  where  the 
tribal  ceremonies  were  to  be  held,  and  his  messengers  called 
together  the  tribe  from  a  radius  of  a  hundred  miles  to  attend 
them,  or  to  meet  on  inter-tribal  matters. 

"His  wonderful  oratorical  powers  made  his  hearers  be- 
lieve anything  he  told  them,  and  always  ready  to  execute  his 
commands.  He  was  not  by  nature  cruel  or  treacherous, 
as  were  many  of  the  Dieri,  and  when  not  excited  was  con- 


SOCIETY  273 

siderate,  patient,  and  very  hospitable.  No  one  spoke  ill 
of  Jalina-piramurana,  but  on  the  contrary,  with  respect 
and  reverence.  This  is  understood  when  Mr.  Gason  adds 
that  he  distributed  the  presents  sent  to  him  amongst  his 
friends  to  prevent  jealousy.  He  used  to  interfere  to  pre- 
vent fights,  even  chastising  the  offender,  and  being  some- 
times wounded  in  so  doing.  On  such  an  occasion  there  would 
be  great  lamentation,  and  the  person  who  had  wounded 
him  was  not  infrequently  beaten  by  the  others. 

"As  the  superior  Headman  of  the  Dieri,  he  presided  at 
the  meetings  of  the  Pinnarus,  sent  out  messengers  to  the 
neighboring  tribes,  and  even  had  the  power  of  giving  away 
young  women,  not  related  to  him,  in  marriage,  of  separating 
men  from  their  wives,  when  they  could  not  agree,  and  of 
making  fresh  matrimonial  arrangements. 

"He  periodically  visited  the  various  hordes  of  the  Dieri 
tribe,  from  which  he  also  periodically  received  presents. 
Tribes  even  at  a  distance  of  a  hundred  miles  sent  him  pres- 
ents, which  were  passed  on  to  him  from  tribe  to  tribe. 

"He  was  one  of  their  great  Kunkis  or  medicine-men,  but 
would  only  practise  his  art  on  persons  of  note,  such  as 
heads  of  totems  or  his  personal  friends. 

"He  was  the  son  of  a  previous  Headman,  who  was  living 
during  Mr.  Gason's  residence  in  the  country,  and  who,  al- 
though too  infirm  to  join  in  the  ceremonies,  gave  advice 
to  the  old  men.  He  boasted  that  he  had  the  command  of 
the  tribe  before  his  son  acquired  it.  He  was  believed  to  be 
proof  against  magical  practices,  such  as  'striking  with  the 
bone.' 

"Jalina-piramurana  had  succeeded  to  and  indeed  eclipsed 
his  father."^ 

Among  the  Kamilaroi  there  were  two  or  three  headmen 
in  each  local  division  of  a  tribe.  Their  position  depended 
on  the  valor  of  the  respective  individuals.  Headship  was 
not  hereditary,  but  prominent  warriors  would  become  lead- 
ers and  their  sons  were  respected,  and  if  deserving,  might 

'Howitt,  "Native  Tribes  of  South-East  Australia,"  pp.  297-299. 


274  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

become  leaders  in  turn.  The  oldest  headman  was  the  chief 
of  the  tribal  council.  His  influence  was  often  considerable 
and  on  occasion  he  could  carry  a  measure  by  his  own  voice. 

"When  the  Headman  of  a  totem  died,"  writes  Howitt, 
all  the  totemites  were  called  together  by  the  man  next 
in  age,  and  not  only  the  men  of  the  totem,  but  everyone, 
men,  women,  boys  and  girls 

"When  all  were  assembled  at  the  appointed  place,  they 
formed  a  ring,  the  old  men  with  their  wives  in  the  front 
row,  the  younger  men  with  their  wives  in  the  next,  and 
outside  were  the  young  men  and  the  girls  to  look  on,  but 
not  to  take  any  other  part  in  the  proceedings.  These  were 
commenced  by  one  of  the  elders  speaking,  followed  by  other 
men;  finally,  the  sense  of  the  meeting  was  taken,  and  then 
the  old  men  stated  who  should  be  the  Headman.  The 
choice  being  thus  made,  presents  were  given  to  the  new 
head  by  the  other  Headmen,  who  had  collected  things  from 
their  people,  such  as  opossum  or  other  skin  rugs  or 
weapons."^ 

At  least  among  the  Kurnai  old  women  shared  with  the 
old  men  the  confidence  of  their  people.  Such  women  were 
often  consulted  by  the  men  and  their  authority  in  the  tribe 
was  great.  Howitt  refers  in  particular  to  two  Kurnai 
women  whom  he  knew,  who  together  with  the  old  men  were 
great  experts  on  the  tribal  legends  and  customs  and  the 
ever-watchful  guardians  over  the  stringent  marriage  rules, 
which  play  so  important  a  part  In  the  lives  of  these  tribes. 

The  tribal  councils  of  the  DIerl  consisted  of  the  heads  of 
local  divisions,  the  medicine-men,  the  influential  old  men  and 
the  fighting  men.  From  time  to  time  they  met  In  council, 
the  deliberations  being  held  secret;  in  fact,  whosoever  was 
guilty  of  revealing  to  an  outsider  the  subject  of  a  council's 
deliberations,  was  doomed  to  die.  The  usual  topics  of 
discussion  at  councils  were  death  by  magic,  other  forms  of 
murder,  breaches  of  the  moral  code,  especially  with  refer- 

^Ibid,  p.  305. 


SOCIETY  275 

ence  to  the  marriage  regulations,  and  the  revealing  of  coun- 
cil secrets  to  women  or  the  uninitiated. 

As  mentioned  before,  most  deaths  were  ascribed  to 
magic.  The  punishment  for  this  offence  was  usually  admin- 
istered by  a  pinya  or  avenging  party.  This  procedure  is 
described  by  Howitt,  in  the  following  passage :  "...  a 
man  with  several  companions  came  to  a  camp  near  Lake 
Hope.  A  man  had  lately  died  at  Perigundi,  from  whence 
they  came,  and  in  order  that  they  might  be  received  by  the 
people  at  Lake  Hope,  they  halted  twenty  yards  from  the 
camp  and  there  gathered  the  spears  and  boomerangs  that 
were  thrown  at  them  ceremonially  by  one  of  the  Lake  Hope 
men,  they  being  as  usual  easily  warded  off.  Then  going 
nearer,  they  again  halted  and  warded  off  the  weapons 
thrown,  and  again  moved  on,  until,  being  close  together, 
the  man  from  Perigundi  and  the  man  from  Lake  Hope 
should  have  taken  hold  of  each  other,  and  sat  down  together. 
But  the  former,  not  taking  heed  of  the  position  of  the  sun 
and  being  dazzled  by  its  rays,  was  unable  to  ward  off  the 
spear  thrown  at  him,  which  entered  his  breast,  and  he  died 
in  the  night.  His  companions  fled  to  Perigundi  and  there 
formed  a  Pinya  of  a  number  of  men,  and  returned  to  Lake 
Hope.  The  leader  of  this  was  a  man  called  Mudla-kupa, 
who  suddenly  appearing  one  evening  placed  himself  before 
him  who  had  killed  the  Perigundi  man,  and  seizing  his  hand 
announced  his  sentence  of  death.  An  elder  brother  of  this 
man  drew  Mudla-kupa  to  one  side,  saying,  'Don't  seize 
my  Ngatata,'^  nor  even  me,  for  see,  there  sits  our  Neyi;^ 
seize  him.'  At  the  same  time  he  threw  ia  clod  of  earth  in 
the  direction  in  which  the  man  was.  Mudla-kupa  now  turned 
to  him,  seized  him  by  the  hand,  and  spoke  the  death  sentence 
over  him,  which  he  received  with  stoical  composure.  Mud- 
la-kupa led  him  to  one  side,  when  the  second  man  of  the 
Pinya  came  up,  and  as  Mudla-kupa  held  the  man  out  to  him 
as  the  accused,  he  struck  him  with  a  marU'Wiri^  and  split 


^Ngatata  and  Neyi  arc  relationship  terms. 

'A  weapon   shaped   like   a   great  boonaerang,   which   is   used   -with  both 
hands  like  a  sword. 


276  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

his  head  open.  The  whole  Pinya  then  fell  upon  him  with 
spears  and  boomerangs.  In  order  that  they  should  not  hear 
how  he  was  being  killed,  the  other  men,  women,  and  children 
in  the  camp  made  a  great  rustling  with  boughs  and  broken- 
off  bushes."^ 

As  the  carrying  out  of  a  pinya  involves  considerable  risk 
of  life  and  limb  to  both  parties  concerned,  the  Dieri  have 
elaborated  a  substitute  method  of  settling  the  blood  debt. 
This  method  is  a  peaceful  one,  consisting  of  an  exchange  of 
articles  by  barter. 

Howitt  tells  of  an  instance  of  this  sort  which  occurred 
after  the  death  of  a  Lake  Hope  man  in  the  year  1899. 
The  debt  of  blood  revenge  or  the  initiation  of  a  pinya  ex- 
pedition devolved  upon  the  older  brother  of  the  Lake  Hope 
man,  who  was  much  feared  for  his  great  strength.  To 
avoid  bloodshed,  the  blacks  among  whom  the  Lake  Hope 
man  had  lived  sent  to  his  brother  a  cord  known  as  yut-yunto. 
This  cord,  when  tied  around  his  neck,  authorized  him  to 
collect  articles  for  barter  with  the  senders.  These  articles 
were  secured  from  his  blood  relatives  in  the  surrounding 
country.  When  a  sufficient  number  were  amassed,  mes- 
sengers were  sent  out,  indicating  the  time  and  place  of  the 
meeting.  The  recipient  of  the  cord,  now  called  yiit-yunto- 
kana,  accompanied  by  a  large  following,  proceeded  to  the  ap- 
pointed spot,  receiving  and  sending  messengers  on  the  way. 
The  two  parties  met  as  if  prepared  for  combat.  The  men 
were  all  armed  and  painted  as  if  about  to  carry  out  a  pinya. 
Behind  the  armed  men  were  the  women,  carrying  the  ar- 
ticles intended  for  barter.  As  the  two  parties  stood  facing 
each  other,  the  yut-yunto-kana  danced  a  war  dance.  Then 
the  leader  of  the  other  party  approached  him,  ceremonially 
seized  the  cord  around  his  throat  and  breaking  it,  cast  it 
into  the  fire.  Then  he  addressed  him,  "How  do  you  come? 
Do  you  come  in  enmity?"  "Oh,  no,"  was  the  response,  "I 
come  peacefully."  "That  being  so,"  said  the  other,  "we 
will  exchange  our  things  in  peace."     Then  they  embraced 

Hbid,  pp.  327-328. 


SOCIETY  277 

each  other  and  sat  down  amicably.  Meanwhile  a  war  dance 
was  going  on,  executed  by  both  parties.  When  the  leaders 
had  sat  down,  the  men  stopped  dancing  and  gathered  behind 
the  two  headmen.  The  women  were  crouching  behind  the 
men,  carefully  concealing  the  articles  for  barter  from  the 
eyes  of  the  opposite  party.  Then  an  article,  a  shield  or 
boomerang,  was  passed  to  the  leader  of  one  of  the  parties. 
This  article  was  passed  on  from  the  last  man  to  the  first, 
the  men  all  standing  in  a  row,  each  one  passing  the  object 
between  the  legs  of  the  man  in  front  of  him,  so  it  could  not 
be  seen  until  produced  by  the  leader,  who  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  line.  Having  received  the  article,  the  leader  threw 
it  down  between  the  parties  with  an  air  of  importance.  Then 
one  man  from  the  other  side  threw  on  it  some  article  in 
exchange.  Thus  the  barter  continued  for  some  time,  until 
one  of  the  leaders  finally  asked,  "Are  you  peaceable?"  And 
the  reply  was,  "Yes,  we  are  well  satisfied."  Each  man  took 
the  articles  he  had  obtained  by  barter,  and  the  parties  sep- 
arated in  peace.  Had  the  bartering  failed  in  its  purpose  so 
that  one  or  both  parties  had  remained  dissatisfied,  there 
would  have  been  an  argument  followed  by  a  regulated  com- 
bat between  all  men  present. 

In  connection  with  the  political  organization  of  these 
tribes  the  institution  of  messengers  is  of  interest.  Mes- 
sengers are  used  by  the  headmen,  councils,  and  other  groups 
or  individuals  to  communicate  to  other  individuals,  groups, 
villages  or  tribes  that  a  ceremony  is  to  be  held  and  when, 
that  a  meeting  for  barter  is  to  take  place,  that  a  pinya  party 
is  on  its  way,  or  that  the  people  are  to  gather  for  the  purpose 
of  a  communal  feast. 

In  some  tribes  messengers  are  specially  selected  on  each 
occasion,  in  others  there  are  definite  men  in  each  locality 
who  are  known  in  a  wide  district  as  messengers  and  who 
are  permitted  to  pass  unmolested  through  the  territory  of 
all  tribes  in  that  district,  even  though  some  of  them  may  be 
at  war  with  the  senders  of  the  messenger.  Among  the 
Kamilaroi  each  clan  claimed  its  own  messenger.     When 


278  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

messengers  are  to  be  sent  to  a  hostile  tribe  and  on  other 
occasions  where  danger  is  involved,  women  are  chosen  for 
the  commission.  If  possible,  women  are  selected  who  have 
come  from  the  tribe  to  which  they  are  sent.  Such  a  mis- 
sion, if  successful,  is  accompanied  by  a  period  of  license,  in 
which  the  members  of  the  mission  and  the  local  tribesmen 
participate.  No  resentment  is  shown  on  such  occasions  on 
the  part  of  the  women  of  the  recipient  tribe.  The  tribe 
sending  the  messengers,  at  least  in  the  case  of  the  Dieri, 
is  equally  insistent  that  this  period  of  license  be  observed. 
Should  the  women  shirk  this  obligation,  they  do  so  at  the 
risk  of  death  on  their  return.  What  happens  upon  the  re- 
turn of  such  a  mission  of  women  has  been  described  by 
Mr.  Gason:  "The  Headman  and  the  principal  old  men 
received  them  kindly,  and  congratulated  them  on  their  safe 
return,  but  appeared  anxious,  and  clutched  their  spears 
in  an  excited  manner.  No  one  but  the  Headman  spoke  to 
the  women  immediately  on  their  return;  but  when  all  the 
men  were  seated,  they  were  questioned  as  to  the  result 
of  their  mission.  The  result  was  at  once  told  to  all  the 
people  in  the  camp,  who  rejoiced  if  it  were  favourable, 
but  who  became  fearfully  excited  and  seemed  to  lose  all 
control  over  themselves  if  it  had  failed,  rushing  to  and  fro, 
yelling,  throwing  sand  into  the  air,  biting  themselves,  and 
brandishing  their  weapons  in  the  wildest  manner  imagin- 
able."^ 

Among  the  Dieri,  a  messenger  announcing  a  pinya  wears 
a  net  on  his  head  with  a  white  band  around  it  in  which  a 
feather  is  stuck.  He  is  painted  with  yellow  ochre  and  pipe 
clay  and  in  the  string  girdle,  at  the  point  of  his  spine,  a 
bunch  of  emu  feathers  is  stuck.  With  him  he  carries  part 
of  the  beard  of  the  deceased  or  some  balls  of  pipe  clay 
taken  from  the  heads  of  the  mourners. 

A  messenger  announcing  a  death  is  smeared  all  over  with 
pipe  clay.  On  his  approach  there  is  a  great  ceremonial  dis- 
play of  grief  on  the  part  of  the  women.     After  the  par- 

^Ibid,  p.  683. 


SOCIETY  279 

ticulars  of  the  death  have  been  made  public  to  the  camp, 
only  the  close  relatives  of  the  deceased  weep.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning  they  paint  themselves  all  over  with  white 
pipe  clay.  Until  this  clay  has  worn  off,  widows  and  widow- 
ers are  prohibited  from  speaking.  They  do  not  rub  off 
the  clay  but  permit  it  to  wear  off  by  itself  and  during  this 
period  they  communicate  with  others  in  gesture  language. 
The  messengers  often  carry  messenger  sticks,  which  are 
crude  slabs  of  wood  with  notches  cut  in  them  to  assist  the 
messenger  in  remembering  his  message.  Howitt,  for  ex- 
ample, refers  to  a  communication  from  one  of  his  inform- 
ants, who  in  1 840  saw  two  young  men  of  the  Ngarigo  tribe, 
one  of  whom  was  carrying  two  peeled  sticks,  each  about  two 
feet  long,  with  notches  cut  into  them.  They  were  sent  to  the 
different  branches  of  their  tribe  to  announce  a  gathering 
on  the  Australian  Alps.  These  gatherings  took  place  about 
mid-summer  on  the  highest  ranges  of  the  mountains,  where 
as  many  as  five  to  seven  hundred  natives  often  congregated 
in  order  to  feast  on  roasted  moths.  The  moths,  great 
quantities  of  which  filled  the  crevices  of  the  rocks,  were  first 
stifled  with  smouldering  brush.  Then  they  were  roasted  on 
hot  ashes,  whereupon  they  shrivelled  to  about  the  size  of  a 
grain  of  wheat.    Then  they  were  eaten. 


The  Geographical  Distribution  of  Social  Forms 

In  the  study  of  industries  and  art,  certain  geographical 
features  appear  with  great  clearness.  These  features  are 
less  readily  discernible  in  a  survey  of  religious  phenomena, 
on  account  of  the  greater  illusiveness  of  the  religious  con- 
tent. In  social  organization  the  facts  of  distribution  are 
once  more  clear  cut  and  convincing.  Certain  forms  of 
social  organization  are  ubiquitous;  others  are  distributed 
in  wide  areas,  more  or  less  continuous;  still  others  repre- 
sent purely  local  variants. 


28o  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

The  local  group,  the  family,  the  relationship  group,  some 
differentiations  on  the  basis  of  sex,  age  and  generation — 
all  of  these  are  found  everywhere,  and  it  is  not  devoid  of 
interest  to  note  once  more  that  the  universality  of  these 
social  forms  extends  also  to  modem  society.  The  emphasis, 
however,  is  changed:  in  our  own  civilization  the  family 
and  the  local  group  are  more  conspicuously  developed, 
whereas  in  primitive  society  the  relationship  group  and  the 
differentiations  on  the  basis  of  sex,  age  and  generation  are 
pre-eminent. 

The  sort  of  social  organization  usually  designated  as  the 
family-village  grouping — meaning  by  this  that  clans,  gentes, 
phratries  and  the  like  are  absent  and  the  family  and  local 
group  alone  are  found — is  decidedly  restricted  in  its  dis- 
tribution. In  North  America,  for  example,  a  line  drawn 
from  Greenland  to  the  coast  of  southern  California  would 
roughly  divide  the  continent  into  two  triangles,  the  north- 
western being  characterized  by  the  family-village  system, 
barring  only  the  tribes  of  the  Northwest  Coast,  the  south- 
eastern, by  the  clan  and  gentile  systems.  In  Africa,  the 
more  primitive  tribes,  such  as  the  Hottentot  and  the  Bush- 
men of  the  southern  extremity  of  the  continent  and  perhaps 
some  of  the  Pygmy  tribes  in  the  great  forests  of  the  upper 
Congo,  are  organized  on  this  basis  of  local  group  and 
family.  In  Australia,  some  relatively  non-numerous  tribes 
along  the  southern,  southeastern  and  western  coasts  have 
the  same  type  of  organization. 

The  clan  and  gentile  systems,  while  not  as  restricted  in 
their  distribution  as  the  family-village  type,  are  not  found 
everywhere,  as  appears  from  what  was  said  in  the  preceding 
paragraph.  In  addition  to  the  areas  in  North  America 
where  clans  and  gentes  prevail,  and  equally  large  although 
at  present  not  as  clearly  defined  areas  in  South  America, 
gentes  are  widely  distributed  In  the  whole  of  Africa  between 
the  desert  of  Sahara  in  the  North  and  that  of  Kalahari  In  the 
Souch,  while  clans  occur  here  and  there  within  this  area. 
In  Australia  alone  are  clans  and  gentes  wellnigh  universal, 


SOCIETY  281 

barring  only  the  relatively  few  tribes  noted  above  as  having 
the  family-village  system. 

Some  other  forms  are  much  more  restricted  in  their 
distribution.  The  Australian  classes  and  sub-classes  are 
not  found  anywhere  else.  The  maternal  family  seems  to 
occur  only  among  the  Iroquois,  with  the  possible  addition 
of  one  or  two  other  tribes.  Dual  divisions  are  present  in 
a  large  number  of  areas  in  North  America,  in  the  whole  of 
Australia  and  in  part  of  Melanesia,  but  are  wholly  absent 
in  Africa  and  India. 

Now,  as  soon  as  any  functional  specifications  are  added 
to  these  purely  formal  divisions,  the  area  of  distribution 
of  each  becomes  more  and  more  restricted.  The  clans  of 
the  Northwest  Coast  are  not  those  of  the  Crow  nor  those 
of  the  Iroquois.  The  dual  divisions  of  the  latter  are  not 
those  of  the  Omaha,  nor  those  of  the  Tlingit  and  Haida, 
and  all  of  these  are  markedly  different  from  the  dual  divi- 
sions of  Australia.  Magical  totemic  ceremonies  are  an  ex- 
clusive functional  peculiarity  of  the  gentes  of  the  Aranda. 
Differentiation  in  the  ways  of  cutting  the  hair  of  boys  is 
peculiar  to  the  gentes  of  the  Omaha.  Definite  association 
of  families  with  hunting  territories  is  apparently  nowhere 
as  clearly  developed  as  it  is  among  some  of  the  eastern 
Algonquin  tribes.  And  so  on,  throughout  the  entire  line  of 
social  divisions  in  their  functional  capacity. 

Recent  studies  of  relationship  systems  show  a  similar 
differentiation  from  locality  to  locality. 

Again,  in  political  organization,  the  geographical  factor 
is  definitely  recognizable.  First  come  the  characteristics 
of  wide  continental  areas,  such  as  the  presence  of  federated 
tribes  and  the  slight  development  of  chieftainship,  in  Amer- 
ica ;  the  centralized  state  and  the  high  status  of  the  king,  in 
Africa ;  the  relative  vagueness  of  the  political  unit  combined 
with  the  great  prominence  of  the  old  men,  in  Australia. 
Within  these  wider  geographical  districts  further  subdivi- 
sions are  discernible.  In  North  America,  a  comparison  of 
those  groups  characterized  by  relatively  high  political  or- 


282  EARLY  CIVILIZATION 

ganization,  such  as  the  Zuni,  the  Dakota,  the  Iroquois,  dis- 
closes differences  of  structure  and  function.  In  Africa,  the 
political  organization  of  the  Yoniba  differs  from  that  of 
the  Herrero  or  the  Zulu  or  the  Masai  or  the  Baganda,  and 
these  differ  among  themselves. 

It  will  be  seen,  then,  that  certain  forms  of  social  organi- 
zation belong  to  the  common-human.  Their  distribution  is 
universal ;  their  congeniality  to  human  society  is  such  that  no 
amount  of  historic  caprice  seems  able  to  dislodge  them. 
Other  forms  of  social  and  political  organization  are  widely 
distributed  but  are  not  by  any  means  universal.  While 
these  forms  must  also  be  regarded  as  singularly  well  adapted 
to  the  purposes  they  fulfill,  their  uniform  distribution  in 
certain  areas  and  their  absence  from  others,  strongly  sug- 
gest the  importance  of  diffusion  through  historic  contact 
as  an  explanatory  factor.  More  specialized  forms  of  social 
units  and  the  functional  differentiations  between  correspond- 
ing units  in  different  tribes  have  as  a  rule  a  limited  distribu- 
tion, while  the  more  minute  peculiarities  are  restricted  to 
single  groups.  Here  there  can  be  only  one  interpretation: 
just  as  variants  of  industry,  of  art,  of  religion,  arise  in  par- 
ticular localities,  so  also  does  social  organization  become 
changed  In  minor  details  under  the  specialized  conditions 
of  individual  tribes  and  local  groups.  Some  of  these  spe- 
cialized developments  prove  congenial  to  an  ever  widening 
circle  of  neighbors,  and  the  new  form  or  function  may  thus 
reach  a  wide  distribution;  other  specialized  developments 
remain  characteristic  of  a  narrow  area  or  even  of  an  indi- 
vidual tribe. 

The  principles  laid  down  in  the  "Reflections  to  Part  I" 
are  thus  once  more  vindicated. 


TOTEMISM 

Few  primitive  Institutions  have  aroused  such  general  in- 
terest as  has  totemism,  few  have  provoked  so  many  theories 


SOCIETY  283 

and  such  heated  controversies.  Spencer,  Frazer  and  An- 
drew Lang,  Rivers  and  N.  W.  Thomas,  Thurnwald,  Graeb- 
ner  and  Father  Schmidt,  van  Gennep  and  Durkheim,  Wundt 
and  Freud,  all  of  these  and  many  others  have  contributed 
their  share  to  the  discussion  of  this  wellnigh  inexhaustible 
subject. 

What,  then,  is  totemism?  What  is  its  nature  and  its  dis- 
tribution in  the  primitive  world? 

One  speaks  of  totemism  when  a  tribe  comprises  a  social 
organization  mostly  of  the  clan  or  gentile  pattern,  as  well 
as  a  peculiar  form  of  supernaturalism,  consisting  in  the 
most  typical  cases  of  certain  attitudes  toward  species  of 
animals  or  plants  or  classes  of  natural  objects.  In  totemism 
the  social  organization  and  the  supernaturalism  are  com- 
bined in  a  distinctive  way  presently  to  be  indicated. 

The  geographical  distribution  of  totemic  tribes  is  extra- 
ordinarily wide.  In  North  America  totemism  occurs  in. 
the  Northwest,  among  such  tribes  as  the  Tlingit  and  Haida; 
among  the  Zuiii,  Hopi  and  related  tribes  of  the  Southwest; 
among  large  groups  of  tribes  in  the  Southeast  (Natchez, 
Creek,  etc.),  as  well  as  among  such  Woodland  tribes 
as  the  Algonquin  Delaware  and — to  include  an  exceedingly 
attenuated  form  of  totemism — among  the  Iroquois  speak- 
ing tribes  of  the  League.  In  the  Plains,  the  so-called  South- 
ern Siouan  tribes  (the  Omaha  and  others)  have  totemism. 
Our  South  American  material  is  still  full  of  gaps,  but 
totemism  has  been  described  by  Im  Thurn  in  British  Guiana, 
some  of  the  native  groups  of  Brazil  certainly  are  totemic, 
and  it  does  not  seem  unlikely  that,  after  further  investiga- 
tion, totemism  will  be  found  as  prevalent  in  the  southern 
continent  as  it  is  in  the  North.  In  Africa  the  tribes  of  the 
Mediterranean  littoral  must  be  eliminated  as  belonging  to 
a  distinct  cultural  layer,  nor  is  totemism  found  at  the  ex- 
treme southern  end  of  the  continent,  among  such  tribes  as 
the  Bushmen  and  Hottentot.  But  in  the  enormous  inter- 
vening area,  among  the  Bantu  and  Sudanese  speaking  Ne- 
groes, totemism  is  very  general  if  not  universal.     Anker- 


284  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

mann's  recent  presentation,  moreover,  indicates  that  further 
totemic  tribes  are  certain  to  be  discovered  in  this  region. 
In  aboriginal  India  the  more  developed  forms  of  totemism 
do  not  seem  to  occur,  but  many  of  the  gotras  or  clan-like 
social  groupings  of  that  area  have  some  form  of  totemism, 
while  others  seem  to  have  had  it  in  the  past.  Australia  is 
the  totemic  continent  par  excellence.  There  all  the  tribes 
are  totemic  with  some  possible  exceptions  among  the  groups 
of  the  southeastern  and  northwestern  shores,  and  even 
among  some  of  these  the  evidence  for  former  totemism  is 
not  unsatisfactory.  Among  the  islanders  of  the  Torres 
Straits  and  in  Melanesia  totemism  is  sporadic,  but  in  the 
latter  area  it  is  in  some  cases  highly  developed.  In  Po- 
lynesia the  evidence  is  doubtful  but  it  is  not  improbable 
that  some  at  least  of  the  western  island  clusters  had  totem- 
ism in  the  past. 

This  enormous  geographical  distribution  of  totemism  can 
only  be  interpreted  in  one  way.  An  historic  accident  of 
singular  origin  followed  by  diffusion  could  not  account  for 
it.  Totemism  must  have  originated  independently  several, 
if  not  many  times,  and  among  those  tribes  to  whom  totemism 
was  brought  by  their  neighbors,  there  must  have  been  a 
marked  receptivity  for  this  institution.  In  other  words, 
the  complex  of  ideas,  attitudes  and  practices  which  is  totem- 
ism, is  congenial  to  early  mentality  and  therefore  charac- 
teristic of  it. 

As  one  analyzes  totemic  clans  or  gentes  in  a  broad  sur- 
vey of  the  globe,  a  variety  of  beliefs  and  practices  with 
reference  to  totems  are  observable.  The  totemites — mem- 
bers of  a  totemic  group — trace  their  descent  from  an 
animal  or  bird  or  thing,  or  they  regard  themselves  as  in 
some  other  way  related  to  the  totem;  the  totem  and  the 
totemite  share  physical  and  psychic  traits;  the  totem  pro- 
tects the  totemite  against  danger;  the  totem  is  represented 
in  art  and  figures  as  a  sacred  symbol  at  ceremonies;  the 
totem  is  taboo — it  may  not  be  eaten  or  killed  or  seen  or 
touched,  or  all  of  these;  the  totemic  group  is  named  after 


SOCIETY  28s 

the  totem;  ceremonies  are  performed  by  the  totemites  to 
multiply  the  supply  of  the  totem  animal — these  are  only  lO 

some  of  the  positive  and  negative  rules  observed  by  totem-  (\  \jj\ 

ites  with  reference  to  their  totems.     In  addition  to  this  J 

it  must  be  noted  that  the  totem  is  scarcely  ever  some  one       ,     , 
animal  or  plant  or  thing;  no,  it  is  an  entire  species  or  class  (^/^ 
of  creatures  or  things  that  figure  as  totems.    And,  finally, 
the  members  of  a  totemic  group  may  not  intermarry — this 
rule  is  almost  as  wide  as  totemism  itself. 

It  is,  however,  not  quite  satisfactory  to  thus  characterize 
totemism  by  a  number  of  features  of  belief  and  practice. 
For,  if  the  question  is  asked  whether  these  totemic  features 
are  found  everywhere  comprised  in  totemism  or  whether 
some  appear  in  one  tribe,  others  in  another,  the  latter 
proves  to  be  the  case. 

Discarding  the  differences  between  minor  totemic  dis- 
tricts, broad  continental  areas  appear  clearly  differentiable 
from  the  standpoint  of  totemism.  In  North  America  the 
artistic  side  of  totemism  is  often  developed  and  among  the 
tribes  of  the  Northwest  Coast  this  is  highly  marked.  The 
totemic  name  is  common  but  not  universal,  and  the  same  is 
true  of  the  totemic  taboo.  Where  totemism  is  richly  de- 
veloped it  becomes  associated  with  the  belief  in  guardian 
spirits.  Then  again,  there  are  tribes  like  the  League  Iro- 
quois and  many  tribes  of  the  Southwest,  where  the  only  dis- 
cernible features  are  clan  exogamy  and  the  animal  or  bird 
name  of  the  clan — barely  enough  to  justify  the  designation 
"totemic,"  and  perhaps  scarcely  enough. 

In  Africa,  the  gentile  totemic  name — for  here  gentes  pre- 
vail— is  often  absent  and  so  are  the  artistic  representations 
of  the  totem.  Double  totems  occur,  as  among  the  Baganda, 
where  most  of  the  gentes  have  two  totems.  The  idea  of 
descent  from  the  totem  is  very  rare,  instead  a  variety  of 
stories  are  told  among  the  different  tribes  to  explain  how 
the  totems  first  made  their  appearance.  But  the  most  typical 
trait  of  African  totemism  is  the  taboo — the  prohibition  to 
eat  or  kill  the  totemic  creature.    The  term  for  totem  among 


286  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

many  Bantu  speaking  tribes  means  "that  which  is  for- 
bidden." The  punishment  for  the  transgression  of  this 
taboo  is  severe,  the  usual  conception  being  that  nature  it- 
self takes  revenge  upon  the  offender:  he  (or  she)  is  af- 
flicted with  a  skin  disease,  which  is  interpreted  by  the  natives 
as  at  least  a  partial  transformation  of  the  culprit  into  the 
tabooed  animal. 

In  Australia  the  number  of  totemic  groups  in  a  tribe  is 
frequently  very  large — ^much  larger  than  either  in  Africa  or 
in  North  America — and  the  number  of  individuals  in  each 
totemic  group  is  correspondingly  small.  The  totemic  clan 
or  gentile  name  is  universal  and  so  is  the  taboo.  The  con- 
ception is  common  that  the  totemite  and  the  totem  are 
closely  related.  The  idea  that  the  totemites  are  in  one  way 
or  another  descended  from  the  totem  is  general.  Totemic 
art,  where  it  occurs,  is  peculiar  insofar  as  identical  designs 
are  used  to  represent  their  totems  not  only  by  different 
totemic  groups  of  one  tribe  but  even  by  totemic  groups 
belonging  to  separate  tribes.  On  the  other  hand,  each  to- 
temic group  interprets  these  designs  in  accordance  with  its 
own  totemic  ideas.  In  Central  Australia  individuals  of  one 
totem  and  locality  perform  magic  ceremonies  which  are  be- 
lieved to  bring  about  the  multiplication  of  the  totemic 
species. 

This  characterization  of  the  three  continental  areas  will 
suffice  for  our  purpose.  It  will  be  seen  that  what  might 
be  called  the  "totemic  complexes"  of  these  areas  differ  con- 
siderably in  the  number  as  well  as  in  the  character  of  the 
totemic  features  they  contain.  There  is  further  difference 
in  the  prominence  accorded  certain  traits.  Thus,  in  Cen- 
tral Australia  the  magical_asge^ct  predominates,  in  Africa 
it  is  the  taboo  aspect,  in  North  America  the  guardian 
spirit  aspect,  and  specifically  on  the  Northwest  Coast  the 
art  is  the  dominant  feature. 

If  we  cared  to  push  our  analysis  still  further,  we  might 
note  that  the  degree  to  which  the  culture  of  different  tribes  is 
saturated  with  totemism  is  by  no  means  always  the  same. 


SOCIETY  287 

Thus,  among  the  Northwest  tribes  almost  every  side  of  civi- 
lization is  touched  by  a  totemic  flavor,  religion  and  mythol- 
ogy, social  organization,  ceremonialism  and  economics,  in- 
dustry and  art;  while  among  the  Omaha,  material  culture 
seems  wholly  free  from  totemic  connection,  and  ceremonial- 
ism almost  entirely  so.  Here  totemism  is  relegated  largely 
to  the  religious  and  mythological  domains.  In  Africa,  again, 
totemism  is  often  little  more  than  a  system  of  food  restric- 
tions. 

It  is,  however,  possible  to  overemphasize  these  differ- 
ences at  the  expense  of  equally  fundamental  similarities.  In 
the  first  place,  some  features  are  much  more  common  than 
others.  For  example :  whereas  magical  ceremonies  to  mul- 
tiply totems  are  performed  only  in  central  Australia  and 
totemic  art  has  nowhere  developed  so  prolifically  as  on  the 
Northwest  Coast,  other  traits  occur  with  fair  uniformity 
in  most  or  all  of  the  major  totemic  areas.  Among  such 
widely  diffused  totemic  attributes  are  totemic  clan  or  gen- 
tile names,  totemic  taboos  and  the  idea  of  some  form  of  re- 
lationship with  the  totem.  Nor  is  this  all.  Exogamy  of 
the  totemic  unit  is  an  almost  universal  trait  of  totemism. 
Whether  one  holds  with  some  that  exogamy  is  of  the  very 
essence  of  totemism,  or  with  others  that  it  is  merely  a  clan 
or  gentile  attribute  and  enters  into  the  totemic  relationship 
secondarily,  the  fact  remains  that  the  prohibition  to  marry 
one's  totem  mate  is  almost  co-extensive  with  totemism  it- 
self.^ And  now  we  come  to  still  another  trait  which  is  even 
more  characteristic  of  totemic  communities  than  exogamy; 
this  trait  is  a  negative  one:  totems  are  not  worshipped. 
Animal  and  plant  worship  and  the  deification  of  inanimate 
Nature,  are  not  totemism.  Almost  everywhere,  in  fact, 
these  forms  of  religion  exist  side  by  side  with  totemism. 

This  brings  us  to  the  kernel  of  the  totemic  situation.  The 
most  distinctive  thing  about  this  institution  is  not  the  vio- 


^That  this  negative  aspect  is  not  all  there  is  to  exogamy  and  that  in  a 
particular  social  system  clan  or  gentile  exogamy  may  be  a  secondary,  not  a 
primary  feature,  has  been  explained  before  (see  pp.  249  sq.). 


288 


EARLY     CIVILIZATION 


lence  of  the  religious  regard  for  the  totem — that,  as  just 
noted,  is  not  discernible — but  the  way  totemic  ideas  and 
rites  are  interwoven  with  a  social  system/ 

It  would  be  wholly  satisfactory  to  regard  this  peculiar  re- 
lation of  an  ideological  and  behavioristic  supernaturalism 
to  a  social  system  as  the  most  distinctive  trait  of  totemism, 
if  not  for  one  circumstance  which,  at  first  sight,  seems  not 
a  little  disturbing:  our  diagram  would  serve  as  well  to  illus- 
trate a  tribal  set  of  religious  societies;  for  here  also  a 
tribal  pattern  of  traits  appears  in  a  variety  of  concrete 
forms.  It  thus  becomes  necessary  to  stress  with  added 
emphasis  the  character  of  the  social  skeleton  underlying  a 
totemic  complex.     The  skeleton  is  always  a  social  system. 


^The  following  diagram  may  serve  to  illustrate  how  a  totemic  complex 
fits  into  a  social  organization: 


"Slff^- 

-^ 

ds^^ 

^; 

\ 

k. 

/ 

V 

Ca 

c,    N 

y 

\ 

'^M 

X 

7 

1    X 

"XC  A  \ 
(         1 

S 

n 

K 

>< 

V 

dr 

XVa    / 

o  A/  c'j   / 

^!X\ 
m 

I 

7 

Fig.  53 

Here  the  segments  I,  II,  III,  .  .  .  are  social  units  (in  totemism  generally 
clans  or  gentes),  while  a,  b,  c  and  d  are  totemic  features,  say  taboo  {a), 
n^me  {b),  relationship  (c),  and  artistic  representation  {d).  Now  a-\-b-\-c-\-d 
is  sufficient  to  characterize  the  totemic  complex,  if  one  notes  in  addition 
that  in  each  segment  these  features  appear  in  somewhat  different  form 
(fli,  02,  Oi,  .  .  .,  bi,  bj,  bi,  etc),  for  each  totemic  unit  has  a  different  animal 
or  bird  or  plant  or  thing  for  its  totem,  and  to  that  extent  its  taboo,  its  rela- 
tionship, its  artistic  representation  are  different  in  their  concrete  aspects 
from  the  corresponding  features  in  the  other  totemic  units  of  the  complex. 


SOCIETY  289 

It  may  be  a  tribal  set  of  families  or  of  local  groups,  but  in 
a  surprisingly  large  majority  of  cases  it  is  either  a  clan  or 
a  gentile  system.  The  totemic  complex  may  constitute  the 
very  flesh  and  spirit  of  that  system,  but  if  the  totemic  com- 
plex were  conceivably  removed,  the  skeleton  would  remain : 
there  would  still  be  a  social  system. 

Thus  it  appears  that  neither  the  socio-psychological  na- 
ture of  totemism,  nor  its  geographical  distribution,  nor  its 
historic  role  can  be  understood  without  a  proper  appraisal 
of  the  underlying  social  skeleton.  This,  in  a  majority  of 
cases,  will  be  found  to  be  a  clan  or  a  gentile  system,  although 
instances  where  families  or  villages  appear  as  carriers  of  a 
totemic  complex  are  not  unknown.  Socio-psychologically 
this  means  that  there  is  some  delicate  correspondence  be- 
tween the  supernaturalistic  aspect  of  totemism  and  clan  or 
gentile  systems,  some  -fitness^  in  their  inter-relation.  Geo- 
graphically this  means  that  wherever  clans  or  gentes  occur, 
there  also  totemism  is  likely  to  be  (although  there  are  excep- 
tions). And  historically  this  means  that  whatever  elements 
of  primitive  life  clans  and  gentes  expressed,  whatever  ele- 
ments they  brought  into  it,  totemism  had  its  share  in  the  pro- 
cess. For  it  must  be  remembered  that  whereas  families  and 
local  groups  are  shared  by  early  and  modern  civilization, 
clans  and  gentes  are  known  to  primitive  life  alone;  they  arc 
equally  foreign  to  earliest  man  and  to  historic  man. 

Before  we  leave  the  subject  of  totemism  a  further  query 
must  be  met.  Has  totemism  and  all  It  stands  for  been  left 
definitely  behind?  or  can  certain  adumbrations  of  it  be  dis- 
cerned in  modern  society?  It  can  be  shown  that  neither 
the  supernaturalism  Involved  in  totemism  nor  the  peculiar 
form  of  socialization  implied  in  It,  are  wholly  foreign  to 
modern  life. 

While  plants  and  Inanimate  things  have  long  since  been 
relegated  to  the  realm  of  the  matter-of-fact,  animals  still 
inhabit  a  region  where  fact  and  fancy  are  peacefully  wedded 


'C/.  my  article,  "Form  and  Content  in  Totemism"   {American  Anthropol- 
ogist, vol.  20,  1918,  pp.  280-295). 


290  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

together.  As  between  the  animal  and  its  human  master, 
verbal  usage  reveals  a  common  range  of  physical  and  psy- 
chic qualities.  One  thinks  of  the  eagle  eye,  the  lionine 
heart,  the  dogged  perseverence,  the  bull's  neck.  Current 
metaphor,  half  earnest  half  in  jest,  has  introduced  the  fox 
and  the  beaver,  the  bear  and  the  rabbit,  the  cat  and  the 
cow,  the  hog  and  the  ass,  the  ape  and  the  shark,  as  charac- 
ters of  the  human  scene.  Some  mothers  treat  their  children 
with  an  affection  we  think  ape-like,  while  others  make  chil- 
dren of  apes,  and  of  cats,  dogs  and  parrots  as  well. 
And  it  is  typical  that  phychic  qualities — intellect,  affection, 
understanding,  sensitiveness — are  wont  to  be  ascribed  to 
these  creatures  by  their  masters,  who,  curiously  enough, 
often  tend  to  deny  these  traits  to  man. 

From  the  days  of  Lavater's  physiognomies  to  those  of 
Lambrosian  criminology,  note  has  been  taken  of  animalistic 
suggestions  in  human  countenances,  and  these  were  bal- 
anced, perhaps  less  commonly,  by  the  reading  of  human 
features  and  expressions  into  the  faces  of  animals.  In  that 
inimitable  fragment  of  life,  "Marie  Claire,"  unique  in  its 
simplicity  and  directness.  Marguerite  Audou  has  given  us 
a  rich  collection  of  such  observations. 

To  those  who  love  animals,  live  with  them,  learn  their 
ways,  the  temptation  to  see  them  as  what  they  are  not  is 
wellnigh  irresistible.  The  "true"  stories  of  most  "nature 
fakers"  are  quite  sincere,  and  the  highly  imaginative  pages 
of  Georgette  Leblanc  represent  but  a  literary  culmination 
of  the  opinions — about  dogs — of  many  women  and  men. 

To  this  must  be  added  the  often  noted  tendency  on  the 
part  of  equivalent  social  units  to  adopt  as  classifiers  names, 
badges,  pins,  flags,  tatoo  marks,  colors.  One  thinks  of  high- 
school  and  college  classes,  baseball  and  football  teams,  po- 
litical parties,  the  degrees  of  the  Elks  and  Masons  and  the 
regiments  of  our  armies. 

The  names  and  things  that  are  thus  used  as  classifiers  and 
symbols,  habitually  rest  against  a  background  of  emotion. 
In  the  case  of  regimental  banners,  the  emotions  aroused 


SOCIETY  291 

may  reach  great  violence,  while  in  the  instance  of  animal  and 
bird  mascots  there  arises  a  complex  of  attitudes  and  rites 
so  curiously  exotic  as  to  invite  an  exaggerated  analogy  with 
primitive  totemism. 

The  fact  remains  that  the  supernaturalistic  as  well  as 
the  social  tendencies  of  totemic  days  live  on  in  modern  so- 
ciety. But  in  our  civilization  these  tendencies,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  a  crystallization  point,  remain  in  solution,  whereas 
in  primitive  communities  the  same  tendencies,  clustering 
about  the  skeletons  of  clan  and  gentile  systems,  function  as 
highly  distinctive  vehicles  of  culture. 


CHAPTER     XIV 

REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II 

Culture  and  Environment 

Before  us  is  a  survey  of  many  aspects  of  primitive  dvili- 
zation.  In  economics  and  industry,  in  art  and  religion,  in 
social  structure  and  political  organization,  early  society 
presents  a  multiplicity  of  forms  and  functions.  After  an 
analysis  of  these  features,  one  question  naturally  suggests 
itself.  How  can  they  be  explained?  Why  so  many  differ- 
ences? Are  there  any  general  conditions  with  which  these 
differences  can  be  correlated?  It  was  hinted  in  the  open- 
ing sections  of  this  book  that  racial  factors  cannot  be  held 
responsible  for  the  variety  of  civilizational  forms.  It 
would  indeed  be  absurd  to  refer  the  civilizational  pecu- 
liarities disclosed  to  racial  or  sub-racial  factors,  for  a  multi- 
plicity of  differences  in  all  of  the  aspects  of  civilization 
reviewed  have  repeatedly  appeared  within  the  range  of 
one  physical  type. 

Another  favorite  explanation  lies  in  the  direction  of 
physical  environment.  Granted  the  psychic  unity  of  man- 
kind, it  is  the  environmental  differences,  climate.  Flora, 
Fauna,  geographical  position,  which  are  responsible  for  the 
differentiations  of  civilization.  This  type  of  explanation 
has  often  been  attempted.  Montesquieu  must  be  counted 
among  the  early  environmentalists.  Taine  once  made  a 
great  stir  by  his  attempts  to  interpret  forms  of  civilization, 
especially  in  its  artistic  and  literary  aspects,  by  environ- 
mental conditions.  And  the  staunch  environmentalism  of 
Buckle  still  has  its  charms  for  many  of  his  readers.  The 
whole  subject  was  placed  on  a  more  scientific  foundation  by 
the  German  geographer-anthropologist,  Friederich  Ratzel. 
Ratzel  was  primarily  interested  in  material  culture,  and 
being  by  training  a  geographer,  he  conceived  of  civilization 

29» 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  293 

as  a  sort  of  an  outgrowth  of  physical  environment,  a  psycho- 
sociological  culmination  of  the  geological  process.  Among 
more  modern  writers,  Miss  Semple,  the  talented  American 
interpreter  and  translator  of  Ratzel,  must  be  classed  as  a 
non-compromising  environmentalist,  having  embodied  her 
creed  in  a  brilliant  discussion  of  American  history  and  its 
geographic  environment.  But  undoubtedly  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  modern  environmentalists  is  Ellsworth  Hunting- 
ton, author  of  "The  Pulse  of  Asia,"  whose  work  centers 
around  the  idea  of  a  climatic  rather  than  a  general  environ- 
mental interpretation  of  civilization. 

Whether  true  or  not,  environmental  interpretations  of 
civilization  are  often  accepted  with  favor  on  account  of  their 
apparent  objectivity  and  definiteness.  Culture  and  mind 
are  evanescent  and  elusive;  environment  is  definite,  con- 
crete, measurable.  Hence  the  modern  mind,  ever  eager 
for  measurable  results  and  mathematical  formulations,  is 
easily  thrown  off  its  guard  by  any  at  all  ingenious  attempt 
to  reduce  civilization  to  environmental  determinants. 

But  let  us  glance  at  the  facts.  It  is  clear  from  the  start 
that  of  all  aspects  of  civilization,  material  culture  is  the 
one  most  closely  allied  with  environmental  factors.  People 
eat,  dress,  build  and  move  about  in  accordance  with  the  re- 
quirements and  by  the  use  of  the  facilities  and  materials 
furnished  by  their  physical  environment.  Industry  is  also 
clearly  affected  by  the  materials  available  and  the  uses  sug- 
gested by  the  character  of  the  physical  milieu.  That  ma- 
terial culture  should  thus  be  found  in  close  touch  with  the 
physical  factors  of  Nature  is  indeed  to  be  expected  for  is 
not  material  culture  the  physical  environment  itself,  or  part 
of  it,  transformed  into  civilization  through  the  creativeness 
of  man? 

Plausible  though  all  this  seems,  an  inspection  of  the 
actual  conditions  at  once  introduces  a  variety  of  complicat- 
ing factors.  People  do  not  use  all  that  is  offered  them  by 
their  physical  environment,  and  they  often  use  things  which 
can  be  obtained  only  with  great  effort  or  by  transgressing 


294  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

the  narrow  limits  of  the  immediate  physical  surroundings. 
Thus  the  wood  industry  of  the  Northwest  Coast  would 
readily  suggest  an  environmental  interpretation.  The  great 
trees  are  there,  and  the  wood  industry,  including  the  won- 
derful art,  seem  almost  preordained  by  the  very  nature  of 
the  physical  environment.  But  further  south,  along  the 
Pacific  slope,  is  a  great  region  inhabited  by  the  tribes  of  the 
California  area,  a  region  almost  unique  in  the  vastness  of 
its  forests.  Now,  in  the  culture  of  the  California  Indians 
this  is  in  no  way  reflected,  for  among  them  wood  industry 
has  not  developed. 

The  distribution  of  pottery  in  North  America  Is  another 
case  in  point.  The  clay  necessary  for  this  industry  is  avail- 
able practically  throughout  the  entire  expanse  of  the  conti- 
nent, but  pots  are  made  only  among  certain  tribes.  Roughly 
speaking,  a  line  drawn  from  the  northeastern  corner  of  the 
continent  to  the  southwestern  one  would  divide  North 
America  into  a  pot  making  district  south  and  east  of  the 
line  and  one  in  which  no  pottery  is  made  north  and  west 
of  it.  The  fact  that  the  tribes  with  pottery  as  well  as  those 
without,  cluster  in  continuous  geographical  areas  at  once 
suggests  that  an  entirely  different  factor  is  involved  here, 
namely  the  diffusion  of  an  industry  from  tribe  to  tribe. 

The  oft  cited  example  of  the  Eskimo  of  arctic  America 
and  the  Chukchee  of  Northeastern  Siberia  might  once  more 
be  adduced  here  in  view  of  its  suggestiveness.  What  is 
more  natural,  exclaims  the  lusty  environmentalist,  than  that 
the  Eskimo  should  build  snow  houses  I  Are  they  not  plenti- 
fully provided  with  this  material  almost  the  whole  year 
round  and  does  it  not  lend  itself  admirably  for  structural 
purposes,  its  use  being,  moreover,  suggested  by  the  natural 
forms  assumed  by  the  snow?  Yes,  for  once  the  environ- 
mentalist seems  to  stand  on  firm  ground — ^until  a  glance 
across  Bering  Strait  reveals  to  one  the  cultural  conditions 
of  the  Chukchee.  Here  is  another  arctic  people,  living' 
under  conditions  practically  identical  with  those  of  the 
Eskimo.     The  snow,  in  particular,  is  supplied  by  Siberian 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  295 

Nature  as  generously  as  it  is  in  the  arctic  of  the  New  World. 
The  Chukchee,  however,  do  not  build  snow  houses.  In- 
stead, they  build  their  large  clumsy  tents  of  hide  over  heavy 
wooden  supports  and,  in  the  face  of  considerable  incon- 
venience, drag  them  along  in  their  frequent  migrations. 
Again,  among  the  same  two  peoples  reindeer  are  avail- 
able in  large  quantities  and  both  peoples  do  indeed 
make  use  of  them.  But  in  what  way?  When  the 
Eskimo  needs  a  reindeer  whose  meat  he  eats,  whose 
hide  he  uses  to  line  the  outside  of  his  kayak  and  the 
inside  of  his  house,  and  whose  horns  form  an  essential  part 
of  his  sledge,  he  goes  out  and  kills  one  with  his  bow  and 
arrow.  To  drive  his  sledge  he  uses  dogs,  but  he  has  never 
domesticated  the  reindeer,  a  much  faster  and  stronger  ani- 
mal. The  Chukchee,  on  the  other  hand,  have  achieved 
this  and  use  the  reindeer  to  draw  their  sledges. 

Evidently  the  environment  is  powerless  to  furnish  an 
explanation  of  this  important  civilizational  difference.  The 
historico-geographical  relations  of  the  two  peoples,  on  the 
other  hand,  readily  supply  an  answer.  The  Eskimo  repre- 
sent the  northern-most  inhabitants  of  North  America,  where 
domestication,  barring  only  the  dog,  is  unknown.  The 
Eskimo  did  not  achieve  domestication  nor  had  they  any  one 
to  learn  it  from.  Thus,  they  never  advanced  beyond  a 
relatively  crude  utilization  of  this  important  feature  of 
their  physical  environment.  The  Chukchee,  on  the  other 
hand,  have  lived  in  long  historic  proximity  and  association 
I  with  the  Tungus,  a  Turkish  people,  among  whom  the  art 
of  domesticating  the  horse  had  been  known  for  generations. 
From  them  the  Chukchee  learned  this  useful  technique, 
applying  it  to  the  animal  available  in  their  forbidding  en- 
vironment, the  arctic  reindeer. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  not  all  the  elements  in  the  physical 
environment  are  culturally  utilized  by  any  given  tribe. 
Also,  that  the  use  made  of  similar  or  identical  features 
differs  from  tribe  to  tribe,  thus  resulting  in  a  variety  of 
cultural  forms. 


296  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

To  this  must  now  be  added  that  elements  not  available 
in  one's  own  physical  environment  are  secured  and  cultur- 
ally transformed.  The  Australian  Dieri  of  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Lake  Eyre,  for  example,  send  a  yearly  expedition  to 
a  region  in  Central  Queensland  in  order  to  secure  supplies  of 
the  pituri  root,  which  they  chew.  As  the  country  traversed 
by  the  expedition  is  inhabited  by  hostile  tribes,  the  men  must 
be  numerous  and  well  armed.  When  they  reach  their 
destination  they  encounter  further  opposition  from  the 
tribes  inhabiting  the  district  where  the  pituri  root  is  found. 
However,  they  usually  succeed  in  collecting  and  carrying 
off  huge  quantities  of  the  desired  commodity.  The  home- 
ward journey  proves  a  more  peaceful  one,  as  part  of  the 
supply  of  pituri  is  traded  off  on  the  way.  The  remainder 
is  consumed  at  home  or  bartered  to  other  tribes  further 
south.  Similar  expeditions  are  sent  to  the  southern  coast 
to  obtain  ochre,  a  mineral  utilized  as  a  coloring  substance 
for  ceremonial  designs  on  the  ground  and  the  decoration 
of  the  dancers. 

The  Todas  of  southern  India  are  supplied  by  their  neigh- 
bors, the  Kota,  with  the  earthenware  indispensable  in  their 
dairies,  as  well  as  a  variety  of  iron  objects.  Nor  is  this 
case  exceptional,  for  such  dependence  on  one's  neighbors  for 
important  or  even  essential  commodities  is  not  uncommon 
among  tribes  in  the  South  and  Southeast  of  Asia. 

All  of  these,  moreover,  are  merely  special  instances  of 
the  inevitable  dependence  of  any  local  civilization  on  other 
civilizations  for  numerous  articles  and  appliances  which  are 
brought  in  through  barter,  war  or  accident,  as  well  as  for 
ideas,  customs,  ceremonies,  myths,  which  percolate  from 
individual  to  individual,  from  tribe  to  tribe,  in  all  kinds  of 
contact,  whether  regulated  or  non-regulated.  It  is  true 
that  this  aspect  of  civilization  does  not  play  as  conspicuous 
nor  as  regular  a  part  in  the  cultural  life  of  early  societies 
as  it  does  in  modern  civilization;  but  the  factor  is  present 
nevertheless,  and  its  importance  can  be  easily  under-esti- 
mated. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  297 

In  Africa,  with  its  markets  and  regulated  trade,  and  in 
Melanesia  and  Polynesia,  with  their  orderly  and  frequent 
trading  expeditions  by  sea,  the  relation  of  a  tribe  to  its 
own  physical  environment  is  constantly  and  inevitably  ampli- 
fied by  its  relation  to  other  tribes. 

Still,  all  in  all,  it  must  be  said  that  in  early  civilization 
every  tribe  utilizes  in  its  material  culture  at  least  part  of 
its  physical  environment,  and  also  that  it  depends,  as  a  rule, 
on  its  own  physical  environment  more  than  on  its  contact 
with  other  tribes.  In  modern  conditions  all  this  is  changed. 
The  diffusion  of  labor  between  groups  and  within  groups, 
local  industrial  specialization,  the  wellnigh  unlimited  sweep 
of  modern  means  of  transportation,  the  advent  of  large 
populational  centers  in  the  form  of  great  cities,  the  highly 
developed  system  of  credit,  have  completely  revolutionized 
the  environmental  relations  of  civilization.  Today,  any 
hamlet  may  find  itself  in  touch  with  the  civilization  and  the 
physical  environment  of  almost  any  spot  in  the  world,  while 
it  may  be  free  or  almost  free  from  any  relation  to  its  own 
physical  environment.^ 

But  it  is  most  important  of  all  to  realize  thaJiDhysical*^^^  Wo  , 
environment  can  at  best  but  provide  what  Wissler  called  c*»vn«u«A' 
the  "brick  and  mortar"  of  material  civilization,  it  cannot       b.T.'i 
determine  the  form.     Now,  while  it  is  true  that  material 
culture  must  have  some  concrete  things  to  operate  with, 
which  come  from  the  physical  environment,  although  not 
necessarily  from  that  of  the  group  itself,  material  culture, 
like  all  culture,  is  in  the  main  a  matter  of  form,  shape,  cut, 
pattern,  fashion,  style — these  are  the  real  characteristics 
of  a  culture.    And  as  between  these  and  the  materials  util- 
ized, the  latter  are  relatively  negligible. 


'A  stray  example  from  the  show  window  of  a  drug  store:  a  bit  of 
Gentian  root  from  the  mountains  of  Southern  and  Central  Europe;  some 
seeds  of  Nux  Vomica,  extracted  from  an  orange-like  fruit  raised  in  Bombay, 
India;  some  roots  of  rhubarb,  grown  in  Tartary  in  the  interior  of  China; 
drops  of  aloes  which  flow  from  the  cut  base  of  a  plant  common  in  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope;  a  dose  of  peppermint  herbs  and  bicarbonate  of  soda,  natire 
in  the  United  States — all  of  these  combined  in  proper  proportions  go  to  ths 
making  of  certain  digestive  tablets. 


298  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

Thus,  if  the  material  cultures  of  the  primitive  tribes  of 
the  world  were  classified  from  the  standpoint  of  the  ma- 
terials used  in  their  economic  pursuits  and  industries,  the 
result  would  be  a  very  imperfect  classification  of  the  floral, 
faunal  and  mineral  characteristics  of  the  different  regions — 
and  to  that  extent  the  partial  dependence  of  the  different 
cultures  on  physical  environment  would  be  demonstrated — 
but  hardly  any  idea  could  be  derived,  from  this  computation, 
of  the  material  cultures  of  the  different  tribes. 

Now,  what  is  true  of  economic  life  and  industry,  of  food 
and  clothing,  of  habitat  and  the  means  of  transportation,  is 
more  emphatically  true  of  the  other  aspects  of  civili- 
zation, social  and  political  organization,  art  and  religion. 
In  the  case  of  religion  and  art  the  dependence  on  environ- 
mental factors  is  almost  disappearingly  small.  It  is  true 
enough  that  the  natural  features,  animals  or  plants  of  a 
region  are  more  likely  than  not  to  figure  in  the  religious  con- 
ceptions of  its  inhabitants,  although  imported  deities  are 
not  by  any  means  uncommon.  But  then,  in  how  far  is  this 
significant  as  a  characterization  of  a  religion?  Surely  what 
makes  a  difference.  Is  not  the  particular  mountain,  river  or 
tree,  animal,  fish  or  bird,  figuring  in  a  religion,  but  the 
way  any  of  these  are  utilized  or  transformed  by  the  re- 
ligious ideology  of  a  group.  Similarly,  it  is  undeniable 
that  certain  relations  obtain  between  the  substance  of 
an  object  of  art  and  its  artistic  elaboration:  not  all  ma- 
terials lend  themselves  equally  well  to  the  same  processes. 
Nevertheless,  the  greatest  variety  of  artistic  styles  and 
devices  may  rest  against  a  uniform  background  of  raw 
material,  as  is  strikingly  exemplified  in  Melanesia  and 
Polynesia. 

A  word,  finally,  is  due  to  social  and  political  organization 
and  to  economic  pursuits.  Next  to  material  culture  these 
elements  of  civilization  are  evidently  most  closely  involved 
here.  Contrary  to  what  one  so  often  hears,  neither  social 
nor  political  structure  seem  to  be  significantly  correlated  with 
environmental  factors.  The  fundamental  forms  of  social 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  299 

organization,  such  as  the  family,  clan,  phratry,  and  so  on, 
are  distributed  over  primitive  areas  without  any  regard  to 
environmental  peculiarities.  And  the  same  applies  to  forms 
of  political  organization.  The  confederated  political  unit, 
for  example,  is  the  highest  form  assumed  by  political  ag- 
gregates in  North  America,  while  the  centralized  state 
reigns  in  a  large  part  of  Africa;  and  in  both  cases  environ- 
mental differences  are  brushed  aside  in  the  geographical 
sweep  of  these  institutions.  It  has  sometimes  been  pointed 
out  that  the  absence  of  relatively  inaccessible  physical 
boundaries  favors  the  development  of  huge  centralized 
empires,  the  great  plains  of  Russia  providing  a  favorite 
example.  But  history  belies  this  generalization  so  conspicu- 
ously that  it  cannot  be  seriously  considered.  The  trans- 
continental sweep  of  ancient  Rome,  the  world  empire  of 
Holland,  or  that  of  France,  or  the  imperial  domains  of 
Great  Britain,  held  together  in  a  grip  of  steel  reaching  out 
across  the  waters — all  these  and  similar  examples  show 
clearly  enough  how  little  environmental  factors  contribute 
to  the  formation  of  political  aggregates.  Another  striking 
example  is  provided  by  the  island  kingdoms  of  Polynesia, 
where  hosts  of  relatively  tiny  bits  of  land  are  held  together 
under  the  unified  control  of  great  chiefs  or  kings,  notwith- 
standing the  intervening  expanse  of  ocean,  the  crossing  of 
which,  even  for  the  seaworthy  boats  of  the  Polynesians,  is 
at  best  a  difficult  and  hazardous  undertaking. 

The  same  is  true  of  economic  life.  'Hunting,  fishing, 
agriculture,  the  gathering  of  wild  fruits  and  berries,  all  of 
these  pursuits  are  possible  only  in  the  presence  of  certain 
environmental  factors,  but  not  one  is  definitely  correlated 
with  any  type  of  environment.  That  physical  environment 
is  not  to  be  disregarded  in  any  historic  study  of  a  civilization 
is  obvious  enough,  but  no  physical  environment  can  in  itself 
be  held  responsible  for  producing  a  definite  type  of  civiliza- 
tion, nor  can  any  environment,  barring  extremes,  prevent  a 
civilization  from  developing.  "Do  not  talk  to  me  about 
environmental  determinants,"  the  philosopher  Hegel  is  re- 


300  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

ported  to  have  said:  "where  the  Greeks  once  lived  the 
Turks  live  now.  That  settles  the  matter  1"  In  view  of  the 
preceding,  it  need  occasion  no  surprise  when  different  civili- 
zations are  found  in  similar  environments,  as  is  the  case 
in  continental  Europe,  and  similar  civilizations  in  differ- 
ent environments,  as  exemplified  by  England,  the  United 
States  and  Canada. 

That  this  should  be  so  is  Indeed  obvious  from  a  compara- 
tive analysis  of  civilization  and  of  physical  Nature.  For 
all  things  considered,  civilization  is  dynamic,  a  thing  of 
growth  and  development;  while  environment  is  compara- 
tively inert  and  static.  It  is  sometimes  asserted  that  this 
very  stability  of  the  environment  enables  it  to  become  a 
powerful  directing  factor  in  civilization.  But  surely  civili- 
zational  changes  cannot  be  derived  from  the  character- 
istics of  an  environment  that  does  not  change.  Here  comes 
the  rejoinder  that  the  environment  does  change,  that  the 
elements  contributed  to  civilization  by  environment  con- 
stantly shift,  multiply,  as  civilization  progresses.  That 
this  is  so  is,  ideed,  undeniable.  But  then,  is  the  environment 
responsible  for  the  changes?  Another  example:  once  the 
pre-Iroquoian  Algonquin  hunted  in  the  forests  on  and  about 
Manhattan;  later  the  Iroquois  cut  the  forests  and  cultivated 
the  soil;  still  later  the  white  settler  applied  more  inten- 
sive agricultural  methods  to  the  same  land;  the  modem 
population  of  the  island,  finally,  erected  on  it  and  about  it 
a  great  metropolis  and  utilized  its  remarkable  facilities  as 
a  harbor.  These  different  kinds  of  relation  between  culture 
and  environment  are  evidently  not  derivable  from  any 
peculiarities  of  the  environment,  which  all  along  remained 
the  same,  but  from  the  fluctuating  and  developing  interests 
and  technical  facilities  of  succeeding  generations,  facilities 
and  interests  which  were  history  made  and  not  environ- 
ment made. 

The  basic  formative  factors  of  all  civilization  are  these : 
creativeness  of  the  individual,  which  is  responsible  for  the 
origination  of  cultural  forms;  psychological  and  sociological 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  11  301 

inertia,  which  determines  institutionalism  and  cultural  sta- 
bility; and  the  historic  relations  between  human  groups, 
which  bring  stimuli  for  change  and  determine  the  dissemina- 
tion and  exchange  of  ideas  and  commodities.  It  will  be 
seen  that  these  factors  are  psychological,  sociological,  his- 
torical, but  not  physical-environmental.  Adjustment  to  en- 
vironment is  an  important  urge,  especially  in  primitive 
society.  But  the  necessity  or  desirability  of  such  adjust- 
ment nowhere  figures  as  an  univocal  determinant  of  cultural 
form.  There  is  always  more  than  one  adjustment  pos- 
sible, and  the  particular  solutions  of  the  problem  adopted 
by  a  given  civilization  can  never  be  foreseen  or  derived 
from  an  inspection  of  the  environmental  factors  alone. 

Diffusion  versus  Independent  Development  in 
Early  Civilization 

In  our  examination  of  the  relation  of  civilization  to 
physical  environment,  one  factor  constantly  appears  as  a 
striking  refutation  of  the  very  possibility  of  an  exclusive 
dependence  of  any  local  civilization  upon  its  own  physical 
milieu.  This  factor  is  the  presence  in  every  civilization  of 
imported  elements,  which  appear  in  large  numbers  in  every 
group,  no  matter  how  primitive.  As  these  elements  come 
from  outside  the  group,  they  are  evidently  independent  of  its 
physical  environment. 

The  phenomena  of  borrowing  and  diffusion  as  they  ap- 
pear in  the  preceding  chapters  amply  support  the  conclusioa. 
r^ached  in  the  "Reflections  to  Part  I,"  for  no  matter  what 
aspect  of  civilization  Is  considered,  certain  elements  rep.- 
resenting  this  aspect  are  distributed  everywhere  (or  nearly 
so),  others  cover  wide  continuous  areas,  while  still  others 
are  restricted  to  narrowly  localized  civilizations. 

In  material  culture,  for  example,  some  things  are  univer- 
sal. Everywhere  there  is  some  form  of  habitation;  some 
means  of  transportation  is  used,  by  land,  by  water,  or  both; 
some  garments  are  worn,  however  scant;  some  tools,  how- 


302 


EARLY     CIVILIZATION 


ever  crude,  are  employed  for  cutting  and  hammering ;  some 
weapons  appear,  and  among  these  are  those  used  in  close 
combat,  like  stone  knives  and  clubs,  and  those  others  that 
strike  at  a  distance,  like  javelins  and  throwing  boomerangs 
and  the  bow  and  arrow.  ~~       n 

The  reasons  for  the  universally  distributed  features  can 


Fig.  54 
Wissler,  "The  American  Indian,"  p.  62. 

not  be  doubted.  They  can  be  summarized  under  three 
heads:  the  general  psychic  unity  of  mankind,  the  identity 
of  the  primary  needs  of  life  and  the  general  similarity  of. 
the  physical  conditions  available  for  their  satisfaction,  al- 
lowance being  made,  moreover,  for  the  limitation  of  the 
possible  ways  in  which  such  primary  adjustments  can  be 
achieved. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  303 

But  as  soon  as  any  of  these  cultural  features  are  speci- 
fied more  distinctly,  the  distributions  begin  to  narrow  down. 
Frorn  Wissler's  map  of  the  distribution  of  types  of  cos- 
tumes in  the  two  Americas,  for  example,  it  appears  that 
tailored  clothing  cut  to  pattern,  not  unlike  our  own,  is  found 
in  a  wide  area  in  the  North;  textile  clothing  is  distributed 
from  the  North  American  Southwest,  through  Mexico  and 
Central  America  and  along  the  western  districts  of  South 
America  down  to  Peru ;  while  robes  are  worn  in  the  central 
area  of  North  America  and  in  the  Southern  of  South 
America. 


[•Bark  Garments 
Palm  Fibre 

Garments 
[Fur  and  Hide 

Garments 


Fig.  55 

B.  Ankermann,  "Kulturkreise  and  Kulturschichten  in  Afrika," 
Zeitschrift  fiir  Ethnologic,  Vol.  37,  1905,  p.  6z. 

Or  again,  to  follow  Ankermann's  African  map!  gar- 
ments made  of  fur  and  hide  occur  practically  throughout  the 
entire  expanse  of  Africa  south  of  the  Sahara  and  east  of 
the  western  states  of  the  Gulf  of  Guinea,  excepting  only  a 
large  area  embracing  most  of  the  water-shed  of  the  Congo 
and  its  tributaries;  garments  made  of  bark  are  worn  in  an 
area  starting  with  a  broad  base  on  the  Gulf  of  Guinea  and 
around  the  lower  Congo  and  extending  eastward  across 
the  continent  in  a  gradually  narrowing  wedge  which  reaches 
to  the  Island  of  Madagascar.  Through  part  of  this  area 
the  distribution  of  fur  and  hide  garments,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  of  bark  garments,  on  the  other,   overlap.     Again, 


304 


EARLY     CIVILIZATION 


clothes  are  also  made  of  palm  fibre  in  parts  of  the  Congo 
area  where  fur  and  hide  garments  do  not  occur,  as  well  as 
throughout  Madagascar  and  in  a  few  small  districts  in  the 
west  of  the  mainland. 

Similarly,  Ankermann's  map  of  the  distribution  of  types 
of  huts  in  Africa  shows  more  or  less  wide  localization  of 
certain  types  as  well  as  an  occasional  overlapping. 

Such  features  as  pottery  and  agriculture,  while  extending 
)eyond  the  limits  of  one  continent,  are^r  from  universal 
in  their  distriJuitian.    Pottery  is  widely  prevalent  in  Amer- 


\; 


/\ 


I  Huts  with   rectan- 
^=      eular    base    and 

#     Gabled    Roofs 
Bee  Hive  Shaped 
,      Huts 

I  Huts  with  Cylin- 
drical Base  and 
Conical  Roofs 


Fig.  56. 
B.  Ankermann,  "Kulturkreise,"  etc.,  p.  56. 


ica  (Fig.  57) ;  it  is  found  throughout  most  of  Africa  south 
of  the  Sahara,  except  among  the  Bushmen  in  the  South;  it 
occurs  throughout  India,  although  some  of  the  Indian  tribes, 
lilce  the  Todas  of  the  South,  do  not  manufacture  the  pots 
themselves.  In  Australia  there  is  no  pottery  nor  is  any 
made  in  Polynesia,  while  in  Melanesia  it  occurs  sporadic- 
ally. Again,  agriculture  is  distributed  in  America  in  an 
area  considerably  narrower  than  that  of  the  distribution 
of  pottery;  it  is  carried  on  in  Africa  almost  throughout  the 
enormous  expanse  south  of  the  Sahara  and  north  of  the 
desert  of  Kalahari,  excepting  only  some  large  thickly 
wooded  districts;  it  does  not  occur  in  Australia,   and  is 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II 


30s 


found  only  In  the  form  of  garden  culture  in  Melanesia  and 
Polynesia. 

More  particular  features  have  a  much  narrower  distribu- 
tion, while  details  of  technique  and  pattern,  finally,  arc 
localized  in  small  groups  of  tribes  or  even  in  individual 


Fig.  57 
distribution  of  pottery  (Wissler,  "The  American  Indian,"  p.  68) 

tribes.  Wissler's  study  of  Plains  shirts,  for  example,  shows 
a  differentiation  of  pattern  from  tribe  to  tribe,  and  as 
indicated  before,  the  guardian  spirit  cults  in  this  area  arc 
similarly  differentiated.     ; 

To  take  another  illustration  from  the  domain  of  art. 
The  art  work  of  Melanesia  taken  as  a  unit  can  be  clearly 
differentiated   from   that   of   Polynesia.     Although   wood 


3o6  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

industry  is  the  predominant  artistic  pursuit  in  both  areas, 
open  work  or  filigree,  which  is  characteristic  of  Melanesia, 
is  almost  unknown  in  Polynesia  except  among  the  Maori  of 
New  Zealand;  the  use  of  color  is  almost  universal  in  Mel- 
anesia and  absent  in  Polynesia,  "in  this  case,  with  the  sole 
exception  of  the  Maori;  animal  patterns  are  constantly 
used  in  Melanesia  in  fairly  realistic  or  semi-conventionalized 
form,  while  in  Polynesia  only  the  human  figure  is  used  as 
a  pattern  and  the  conventionalization  is  almost  always  ex- 
treme; again,  the  polishing  of  art  objects  has  reached  a 
high  degree  of  perfection  in  Polynesia,  while  almost  un- 
known in  Melanesia. 

And  once  again,  a  more  detailed  study  reveals  unmistak- 

le  local  differentiations.  The  pottery  of  Fiji,  the  shields 
and  spear  throwers  of  New  Guinea,  the  wooden  gongs  of 
the  New  Hebrides,  the  open  work  totemic  columns  and 
masks  of  New  Ireland,  the  clubs  and  wooden  foot  rests  of 
the  Marquesas,  the  spears  set  with  shark  teeth  of  the  Gil- 
bert Islands,  the  feather  work  of  Hawaii,  the  great  wooden 
idols  of  Easter  Island,  and  the  grotesque  jade  neck  orna- 
ments of  New  Zealand;  all  of  these  are  unique,  highly  dis- 
tinctive features,  each  one  of  which  may  serve  to  identify  a 
particular  locality. 

Similar  phenomena  encounter  one  on  all  sides.  Some  so- 
cial units,  the  conditions  for  which  are  given  everywhere,  are 
universal;  such  are  the  family  and  the  local  group,  as  well 
as  one  or  another  form  of  age,  sex  and  relationship  groups. 
Other  social  units — the  clan,  gens,  dual  division — are  widely 
distributed  in  different  continents,  but  not  omnipresent. 
Other  more  specialized  forms,  like  the  class  or  the  maternal 
family,  have  strictly  limited  distribution,  the  former  as  a 
typical  Australian  feature,  the  latter  as  a  peculiarity  of  the 
Iroquois  League.  Again,  as  soon  as  the  social  functions  of 
these  units  are  considered,  the  distribution  of  those  with 
uniform  functions  narrows  down  still  further. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  generalization  reached  on  the 
basis  of  the  analysi's  of  the  five  test  tribes  in  Part  I,  is  borne 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  307 

out   by   a  wider   comparative   material.     What   we   find    ^f^ 
is  an  universal  or  nearly  universal  distribution  of  such  cul-   — 
tural  features  as  flow  directly  from  man's  psychic  nature 

d  his  relation  to  his  physical   and  social  environment, 
n  come  other  features,  some  distributed  in  great  con-J 

uous  areas,  others  in  ever  narrowing  districts,  down  to( 
specific  highly  individualized  traits  characteristic  of  just  aj 
few  localities  or  only  one  local  group.  vAs  an  interpretatioia 
of  the  distributions  of  the  features  that  are  not  universal 
or  near  universal,  we  must  repeat  our  former  conclusion: 
i  they  can  only  be  explained  by  the  constant  origination,  in  \ 
particular  localities,  of  new  cultural  peculiarities  or  of 
variations  of  old  ones,  and  the  subsequent  spread  of  these 
from  tribe  to  tribe,  by  diffusion. 

At  times  certain  very  general  historical  conclusions  can 
be  derived  from  these  distributions  alone.  Thus  some  cul- 
tural features  are  widely  distributed  in  great  continuous 
areas,  but  absent  in  others  equally  great.  Apart  from  other 
evidence,  this  would  suggest  that  the  feature  in  question 
originated  only  a  very  few  times  or  perhaps  only  once  in 
the  area  of  its  distribution.  This  would  apply,  for  ex- 
ample, to  the  wheel,  found  in  the  Old  World  alone,  to  the 
riddle,  or  to  institutionalized  legal  procedure. 

The  most  complicated  and  difficult  aspects  of  the  diffusion  ) 
problem  arise  in  cases  different  from  the  above,  in  those  C^ 
namely,  where  the  geographical  distribution  of  a  trait  is  dis-  / 
continuous. 

In  some  cases  of  discontinuous  distribution  the  geograph- 
ical facts  alone  may  furnish  an  answer  to  the  problem.     In 
the  following  map,  for  example,  the  distribution  of  totemism      . 
in  Africa   is   represented.      It   is   strikingly   discontinuous.     \. 
Now  totemism,  as  we  saw,  is  a  widespread  cultural  phe-  ^ 
nomenon,  not  restricted  to  Africa,  but  common  to  many 
primitive  areas.     It  must  therefore  be  assumed  that  it  has 
originated   independently  a  number  of  times.      It  would, 
nevertheless,  be  against  all  probability  to  assume  a  separate 
origin  of  totemism  for  each  one  of  the  distribution  areas  of 


3o8  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

Africa,  especially  on  account  of  the  highly  comparable 
forms  of  totemism  which  occur  here.  It  must  therefore  be 
assumed  that  historic  contact  has  taken  place  at  least  be- 
tween some  of  these  areas,  or  that  there  were  connecting 
links  of  totemic  tribes  among  whom  totemism  has  subse- 
quently fallen  into  decay.  The  alternative  or  subsidiary  hy- 
pothesis would  be  that  the  investigation  of  African  tribes 
not  being  complete,  cases  of  totemism  have  been  overlooked. 


Fig.  58 

B.  Ankermann,  "Verbreitung  und  Formen  des  Totemismus  in  Afrika," 
Zeitschrift  fur  Ethnologie,  Vol.  47,  1915,  p.  i8o. 

There  are  innumerable  other  instances  where  an  answer 
cannot  be  so  readily  provided.  Religious  societies,  for 
example,  occur  in  northern  Melanesia,  in  West  Africa, 
among  some  natives  of  Brazil,  and  in  several  areas  in 
North  America.  Must  historic  contact  be  assumed  here  or 
a  remote  common  historic  origin,  or  are  the  societies  in 
the  several  areas  to  be  derived  from  disparate  historic 
sources?  Another  case  is  provided  by  the  art  of  New 
Ireland  when  compared  with  that  of  the  Northwest  Coast 
of  America.  In  both  areas  the  art  objects  in  question  con- 
sist of  decorated  poles.  The  carved  decorations  to  which 
color  is  applied  represent  animals  intertwined  in  various 
ways.  In  both  localities,  finally,  these  poles  have  a  symbolic 
religious  significance  and  figure  in  ceremonies.  Such  are 
the  similarities.  But  there  are  differences.  The  totemic 
poles  of  New  Ireland  are  small  ceremonial  objects,  some 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  309 

three  to  five  feet  high ;  the  carved  decoration  is  in  the  form 
of  open  work  or  filigree,  the  whole  carving  producing  a 
light  lace-like  effect.  The  totem  poles  of  the  Northwest 
Coast,  on  the  other  hand,  are  gigantic  posts  looming  far 
above  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  while  the  carving  is  in  high 
or  low  relief,  but  not  in  open  work,  the  total  effect  being 
ponderous  and  massive.  Without  pressing  the  parallel  too 
closely,  the  New  Ireland  carvings  might  be  likened  to  the 
Gothic,  those  of  the  Northwest  Coast  to  the  Egyptian 
styles  of  decoration.  Now,  under  these  conditions,  should 
the  similarities  between  the  arts  of  the  two  areas  be  ascribed 
to  historic  contact  or  to  independent  origin? 

Another  illustration  of  a  different  type  is  provided  by  a 
special  variety  of  panpipe,  in  which  each  closed  pipe  is 
coupled  with  an  open  one  of  approximately  the  same  length 
which  sounds  the  octave  of  the  closed  one.  This  musical 
instrument  occurs  only  in  two  widely  separated  areas:  in 
the  Solomon  Islands  and  western  Polynesia,  and  again,  in 
Peru  and  Bolivia.  It  was  also  found  that  a  panpipe  of 
Northwestern  Brazil  was  built  to  produce  a  system  of  sounds 
which  agreed  very  closely  with  the  sound  systems  of  some 
specimens  from  the  South  Sea  area.  The  similarity  is  un- 
questionably a  striking  one,  but  the  distance  between  the 
two  areas  is  great  and  the  probability  of  historic  contact 
slight.  Should  the  hypothesis  of  diffusion  be  adopted  in 
the  face  of  such  difficulties,  or  is  independant  origin  to  be 
held  responsible  for  the  striking  similarities  in  question, 
which,  in  this  case,  would  have  to  be  regarded  as  accidental? 
Numerous  examples  that  have  puzzled  investigators  and 
have  led  to  acrimonious  discussion,  are  provided  by  the 
domain  of  mythology.  The  so-called  tale  of  the  Magic 
Flight  is  one.  This  tale  contains  the  following  incidents: 
a  flight  from  an  ogre,  objects  thrown  by  the  one  pursued, 
forming  obstacles  to  the  ogre's  advance :  first  a  stone  which 
turns  into  a  mountain,  then  a  comb  which  becomes  a  thicket, 
and  finally  a  bottle  of  oil  which  changes  into  a  body  of 
water.    This  tale  is  widely  but  not  continuously  distributed 


\Y 


310  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

both  in  the  Old  and  in  the  New  Worlds.    Can  it  be  assumed 
that  the  above  group  of  incidents  as  part  of  one  tale  origi- 
nated independently  in  the  several  areas? 
y       The  classical  evolutionist  was  not  greatly  troubled  over 
y     examples  such  as  this.    To  him  all  such  instances  attested 
A       the  similarity  of  the  human  mind  and  the  parallelism  of 
f^i^-     cultural  development.    But  we  may  not  share  the  consoling 
\J        faith  of  the  evolutionist.     The  universality  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  diffusion  amply  attested  to  by  the  preceding  dis- 
cussion, does  not  permit  one  to  stress  the  theory  of  inde- 
pendent  development   at  the   expense   of   the   alternative 
possibility  of  explaining  cultural  similarities  through  a  com- 
mon ultimate  origin  or  through  historic  dffusion  from  one 
tribe  to  another. 

Now,  one  factor  will  always  favor  the  hypothesis  of 
diffusion:  it  is  its  demonstrability  in  specific  instances; 
whereas  independent  origin  must  at  best  always  remain 
problematic.  Prompted  by  the  historic  ubiquity  of  diffu- 
sion as  well  as  by  its  demonstrability,  a  number  of  modern 
students  of  cultural  phenomena  turned  their  backs  upon  the 
generalizations  of  the  evolutionist,  showing  a  decided  ten- 
dency to  interpret  most  or  even  all  similarities  of  culture 
through  historic  contact  or  ultimate  unity  of  origin.  First 
among  these  students  stands  Ratzel,  the  geographer,  to 
whom  we  had  occasion  to  refer  in  connection  with  his  en- 
vironmentalism.  He  was  primarily  concerned  with  objects 
of  material  culture,  having  himself  carried  out  several  in- 
tensive investigations  of  the  distribution  of  material  objects, 
for  example,  of  African  bows,  of  a  special  variety  of  armor, 
and  the  like.  His  view  was  that  the  interpretation  of 
similarities  in  this  domain  must  lie  in  the  direction  of  his- 
toric contact.  In  spiritual  factors  he  was  less  interested, 
and  here  he  allowed  for  the  possibility  of  the  independent 
origin  of  similarities. 

More  recently,  F.  Graebner,  a  young  student  of  history, 
embraced  the  creed  of  Ratzel  and  developed  it  into  a  more 
systematic  as  well  as  dogmatic  ideological  structure,  at  the 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  311 

foundation  of  which  lies  the  theory  of  diffusion.  Graebner 
rejects  as  unprovable  all  explanations  of  similarities  through 
independent  origin,  pinning  his  faith  on  the  possibility  of 
proving  historic  connection  in  all  such  instances.  Graebner 
is  also  primarily  interested  in  material  culture. 

In  still  more  recent  years  the  theory  of  diffusion  as  a 
system  of  interpretation  of  cultural  similarities  received  a 
fresh  impetus  through  the  work  of  Rivers,  who  in  his  two- 
volume  book  on  "The  History  of  Melanesian  Society"  has 
attempted  a  hypothetical  historic  reconstruction  unprece- 
dental  in  its  complexity,  with  the  theory  of  diffusion  as  his 
principal  tool.  Among  his  followers,  Elliot  Smith  has 
achieved  the  questionable  distinction  of  outdoing  the  dog- 
matism of  the  evolutionist  by  his  reckless  utilization  of 
diffusion  as  an  interpretation  of  widespread  cultural  simi- 
larities, supporting  his  theory  by  a  comparative  material 
apparently  as  inexhaustible  in  quantity  and  handled  as  un- 
critically as  was  the  comparative  material  of  the  evolu- 
tionist. 

The  value  of  the  last-named  theory  cannot  be  examined 
here.  The  idea  of  a  Megalithic  culture  originated  in  the 
Eighth  Century  B.  C,  in  Egypt,  spreading  thence  through 
the  Mediterranean  region,  over  the  southern  areas  of  Asia 
and  the  island  expanses  of  Melanesia  and  Polynesia  to  the 
remote  countries  of  Mexico  and  Peru;  this  idea,  however 
alluring,  would  require  a  delicate  technique  and  categorical 
demonstration  before  it  could  claim  serious  attention.  The 
methods  used  by  Elliot  Smith  are,  on  the  contrary,  so  loose 
that  the  entire  speculative  edifice  erected  by  him  can  at  best 
be  regarded  as  another  link  in  that  chain  of  top-heavy 
hypotheses,  born  of  uncontrolled  flights  of  the  Imagination 
and  unchecked  by  either  patient  research  or  a  strict  method 
of  procedure. 

The  works  of  Graebner  and  Rivers  stand  on  a  different 
level.  The  fundamental  principles  of  Graebner's  position 
are  these:  the  independent  development  of  cultural  simi- 
larities can  be  assumed  only  after  all  attempts  to  demon- 


312  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

strata  diffusion  have  failed.  The  criteria  of  similarity  are 
two,  one  is  qualitative  in  its  nature,  referring  to  the  details 
of  similarity  in  the  compared  objects,  beliefs  or  institutions; 
the  other  criterion  is  a  quantitative  one,  indicating  how 
many  items  of  similarity  can  be  discerned  between  two 
areas  or  cultures,  or  separate  aspects  of  such  cultures.  If 
an  examination  from  these  two  standpoints  reveals  con- 
spicuous similarities,  diffusion  must  be  assumed,  however 
great  the  distance  between  the  two  areas  in  question  and 
however  difficult  or  improbable  historic  contact  between 
them.  On  the  basis  of  these  assumptions  Graebner  builds 
his  theory  of  cultural  strata  and  of  "culture  areas''^  into 
an  examination  of  which  we  need  not  enter  here. 

Now,  our  discussion  has  shown  that  independent  develop- 
ment of  similarities  must  be  assumed  as  a  general  postulate 
in  connection  with  civilizational  interpretations,  although  it 
is,  of  course,  true  that  rigorous  proof  of  independent  de- 
velopment as  against  diffusion  can  but  seldom  be  furnished. 
It  will  have  been  noted  that  Graebner  regards  cultural 
similarities  as  readily  ascertained  and  evaluated.  That, 
however,  is  by  no  means  the  case.  Two  simple  objects  of 
material  culture,  two  stone  knives,  for  instance,  or  two 
paddles,  can  be  compared  with  little  difficulty;  but  as  soon 
as  the  elements  compared  reach  a  certain  degree  of  com- 
plexity or  comprise  psychological  or  sociological  factors, 
comparison  becomes  difficult  and  the  concept  of  similarity 
itself,  vague.  In  the  instance  of  the  religious  societies 
referred  to  before,  as  well  as  in  that  of  the  decorative  arts 
of  New  Ireland  and  the  Northwest  Coast,  numerous  differ- 


1 


'Graebner's  "culture  areas"  (Kulturkreise)  must  be  sharply  distin- 
guished from  the  culture  areas  of  American  ethnology;  for  whereas  the 
latter  represent  conceptualized  descriptions  of  cultural  complexes  consti- 
tuting actual  geographical  and  historical  units,  Graebner's  Kulturkreise 
are  purely  hypothetical  reconstructions,  inferred  from  the  geographical  dis- 
tributions of  separate  elements  of  culture. 

A  detailed  statement  of  Graebner's  position  will  be  found  in  his 
"Methode  der  Ethnologie,"  and  brief  expositions  and  criticisms,  in  Lowie 
("The  Concept  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology,"  Journal  of  American  Folk- 
Lore,  1912)  and  Boas  (review  of  Graebner's  book  in  Science,  1911).  For 
American  culture  area  concept,  see  Wissler's  "American  Indian,"  Chapter 
XIV. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  313 

ences  are  combined  with  equally  numerous  similarities. 
Here  the  value  of  the  qualitative  and  quantitative  standards 
as  tests  of  the  similarities  involved  is  limited,  if  any  con- 
clusions are  to  be  drawn  with  reference  to  the  probability 
of  the  independent  development  or  of  diffusion  of  such 
similarities.  It  is  precisely  this  difficulty  of  establishing 
similarities  and  of  appraising  their  extent  and  significance 
which  forces  the  student  to  introduce  the  geographico-his- 
torical  factor  whenever  questions  of  independent  or  derived 
origin  of  similarities  are  to  be  decided/ 

Rfvers'  contributions  to ,  the  theory  of  diffusion  are  of 
especial  interest,  as  this  investigator  deserves  great  credit 
for  the  introduction  of  a  number  of  highly  accurate  and 
serviceable  methods  into  the  domain  of  ethnological  study. 
He  himself,  moreover,  regards  his  later  works  as  distinct 
contributions'  to  the  theory  and  methodology  of  diffusion. 
There  is,  without  question,  a  great  difference  between  the 
approach  of  Graebner  and  that  of  Rivers.  The  latter 
evaluates  psychological  factors  more  justly  than  does 
Graebner,  thus  achieving  a  closer  approach  to  cultural 
reality.  Rivers  insists,  for  example,  that  new  cultural  ele- 
ments may  appear  as  a  result  of  culture  contact,  which  were 
not  present  in  either  of  the  two  civilizations  before  contact 
was  achieved.  A  mere  reference  must  suffice  to  his  great 
work  on  "The  History  of  Melaneslan  Society,"  the  second 
volume  of  which  represents  a  closely  knit  theoretical  argu- 
ment which  stands  alone  in  the  entire  domain  of  ethnology.^ 
Two  of  the  author's  smaller  contributions,  however,  readily 


*In  explanation  of  Graebner's  extreme  diffusionism,  it  must  be  said  that 
it  reflects  the  outlook  of  a  man  who  has  dealt  largely  with  material  culture. 
All  of  Graebner's  principles  apply  more  readily  to  this  domain  of  civiliza- 
tion than  to  any  other.  Diffusion,  for  example,  is  more  easily  demonstrable 
with  reference  to  objects  than  it  is  with  reference  to  social  customs  or 
religious  ideas.  Again,  similarities  between  things  are  more  readily  de- 
tected, described  and  evaluated  than  similarities  between  ideas,  faiths  or 
forms  of  behavior.  Also,  material  culture,  if  it  persists  at  all,  is  more 
likely  to  persist  in  a  relatively  unchanged  form  than  is  spiritual  culture, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  material  things  are  relatively  immune  against  the 
transforming  influences  of  psychological  agencies. 

'Unfortunately  Rivers  has  not  escaped  the  pitfalls  of  dogmatic  diffusion- 
ism  {Cf.  my  review  of  Rivers'  book  in  Science,  Vol.  44,  pp.  824-828,  1916). 


3 1 4  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

lend  themselves  to  a  brief  critical  examination.  Both  refer 
to  Australia,  and  in  both  the  author  attempts  to  intercept 
certain  peculiarities  of  Australian  civilization  by  an  argu- 
ment designed  to  demonstrate  its  cultural  complexity.  In 
the  article  on  "The  Contact  of  Peoples,"^  Rivers  notes  the 
contrast  between  the  physical  uniformity  of  the  Australians 
and  the  general  cultural  homogeneity  of  the  continent,  and 
the  strange  diversity  of  the  methods  of  disposal  of  the  dead. 
As  Rivers  states,  nearly  every  one  of  the  known  methods  of 
disposal  are  practiced  here :  inhumation  In  the  extended  and 
contracted  positions,  preservation  on  platforms  and  trees 
and  in  caverns,  a  simple  kind  of  embalming  and  also  crema- 
tion. 

It  is  next  to  impossible  to  assume,  claims  Rivers,  that  so 
great  a  variety  of  burial  methods  should  have  originated 
independently  in  the  continent  of  Australia.  They  must 
have  been  brought  from  without.  But  how  explain  the  fact 
that  the  people  who  bestowed  these  many  varieties  of  the 
disposal  of  the  dead  upon  the  Australians  did  not  simi- 
larly influence  the  other  aspects  of  their  civilization  and  left 
the  physical  type  of  the  Australian  untouched  by  intermar- 
riage? Rivers'  answer  is  this.  As  a  guide  to  our  inter- 
pretation we  must  assume  the  following  postulates:  i,  a 
profound  influence  may  be  exerted  by  a  foreign  civilization, 
although  represented  by  but  a  few  Immigrants,  if  that  civili- 
zation is  sufficiently  superior  to  that  of  the  natives  to  im- 
press them  as  great  and  wonderful;  and  2,  civlllzational 
elements,  even  though  useful,  may  disappear  through  a 
change  in  fashion  or,  if  the  elements  are  Imported,  through 
the  non-adaptablllty  of  the  recipient  civilization.^ 

Now  then,  it  must  be  assumed  that  an  immigrant  people 
with  a  superior  civilization  have  found  their  way  to  Aus- 


Mn  "Essays  and  Studies  Presented  to  William  Ridgeway,  1913,  pp.  474  sq. 

*In  a  previous  article  on  "The  Disappearance  of  Useful  Arts"  (Vi^ester- 
raarck  Anniversary  Volume,  1912)  Rivers  has  presented  an  argument  for 
this  position.  As  an  instance,  he  utilized  the  case  of  Polynesia,  where  the 
once  widespread  bow  and  arrow  has  been  relegated  to  the  position  of  a 
weapon  of  sport,  the  club  having  taken  its  place  as  a  weapon  of  more 
essential  use. 


I 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  315 

tralia.  Their  number  was  small,  but  their  civilization  su- 
perior. The  natives  were  impressed.  Especially  striking  to 
the  aborigines  appeared  the  foreign  funeral  rites,  and  in 
the  course  of  time  the  new  method  of  disposal  of  the  dead 
was  adopted  by  the  natives.  The  number  of  intruders  hav- 
ing been  small,  they  were  subsequently  absorbed  by  the 
native  population  without  leaving  any  physical  traces  of 
their  former  presence.  Most  of  the  civilizational  changes 
which  they  brought  with  them  also  disappeared,  the  crude 
culture  of  the  Australians  proving  a  non-receptive  soil;  but 
the  new  method  of  disposing  of  the  dead  persisted  and  re- 
mained. Then  there  came  another  immigration,  similarly 
carried  out  by  a  few  individuals  representi.ng  a  higher  civili- 
zation. Once  more,  the  same  process  was  gone  through, 
another  method  of  burial  being  adopted  by  the  natives 
among  other  civilizational  peculiarities.  This  was  followed 
by  a  second  relapse,  most  of  the  newly  imported  cultural 
features  being  again  lost,  excepting  only  the  new  method 
of  burial,  which  persisted.  And  as  the  number  of  the  sec- 
ond immigrants  was  also  small,  they  were  similarly  absorbed 
without  any  visible  effect  upon  the  native  population.  This 
process  was  repeated  again  and  again,  until  all  the  methods 
of  disposal  of  the  dead  now  current  in  Australia  were  one  by 
one  imported  and  adopted  by  the  natives. 

Now,  can  a  theory  of  this  sort  be  seriously  considered 
as  an  interpretation  of  a  phase  of  Australian  culture?  The 
feasibility  of  Rivers'  postulates  taken  in  themselves  cannot 
be  denied,  but  the  very  number  of  hypothetical  factors  in- 
troduced into  his  theory  renders  it  so  highly  artificial  that 
even  approximation  to  historic  truth  must  in  this  case  be 
regarded  as  outside  the  range  of  probability. 

In  his  essay  on  "The  Sociological  Significance  of  Myths,"* 
Rivers  argues  that  myths  are  made  about  the  unusual.  Now, 
social  organization,  being  one  of  the  basic  elements  of  civili- 
zation, is,  therefore,  least  likely  to  rise  into  conscious- 
ness and  to  become  a  subject  of  mythological  speculation. 


*Folk-Lore,  Vol.  23,  1913. 


3i6  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

How  is  it,  then,  that  myths  in  Central  Australia  are  in- 
vented about  the  clans  as  well  as  about  the  dual  divisions? 
The  answer  once  more  favors  an  interpretation  through 
culture  contact.  The  myths  about  the  clans  are  readily 
explained,  claims  Rivers:  these  groups  here  are  no  longer 
mere  units  of  social  organization,  rather  have  they  become 
a  ceremonio-religious  institution,  and,  as  such,  they  may  be 
expected  to  stimulate  the  myth  building  imagination.  As 
to  the  dual  divisions,  they  must  be  regarded  as  of  foreign 
origin,  this  being  the  only  way  in  which  the  mythologies 
that  have  grown  up  about  these  divisions  can  be  accounted 
for.  A  people  with  a  clan  organization  must  have  encoun- 
tered one  with  dual  divisions,  and  having  adopted  the  lat- 
ter, invented  myths  about  these  strange  social  units  with 
which  they  were  formerly  unacquainted. 

Once  more,  the  high  artificiality  of  the  theory  must  dis- 
pose of  it  as  a  serious  attempt  at  cultural  interpretation. 
For,  what  is  the  probability  of  the  picture  drawn  by  Rivers 
actually  reflecting  historic  reality? 

If  space  permitted  we  might  have  discussed  here  WIss- 
ler's  comparative  sketch  of  Blackfoot  material  culture,  in 
which  a  minute  comparison  of  traits  between  this  tribe  and 
other  Plains  tribes  leads  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Black- 
foot  must  have  borrowed  all  of  the  fundamental  elements 
of  their  material  culture,  having  originated  none.  Or,  we 
might  have  followed  the  same  author  in  his  careful  historic 
reconstruction  of  the  diffusion  of  horse  culture  in  the  Plains. 
The  horse,  originally  of  Spanish  importation,  gradually 
made  its  way  northward,  spreading  from  tribe  to  tribe. 
Wissler  argues  convincingly  that  the  presence  of  the  horse, 
which  added  nothing  but  itself  to  Plains  civilization, 
nevertheless  contributed  to  the  cultural  physiognomy  of  this 
area  by  precipitating  intertribal  intercourse  and  thereby 
stimulating  the  diffusion  and  interpenetration  of  cultural 
traits.  Still  another  essay  that  would  have  deserved  espe- 
cial attention  is  Lowie's  monograph  on  the  Age  Societies  of 
the  Plains  Indians.    In  this  historical  and  comparative  sum- 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  317 

mary,  the  tribal  societies  are  subjected  to  a  most  minute 
analysis  from  the  standpoint  of  the  features  which  they 
comprise,  and  are,  as  a  result  of  such  an  analysis,  ultimately 
classified  as  originators,  borrowers  or  transmittors  of  the 
various  traits. 

It  must  suffice  here  to  merely  refer  to  these  meritorious 
contributions,  while  taking  time  to  deal  somewhat  more 
carefully  with  Berthold  Laufer's  essay  "The  Potter's 
Wheel.'"  It  is  well  known  that  among  primitive  tribes  pots 
are  made  by  hand,  but  among  tribes  on  a  higher  civiliza- 
tional  level  pots  are  often  turned  on  the  wheel,  a  much  more 
expeditious  and  efficient  method.  Now  the  potter's  wheel, 
argues  Laufer,  is  distributed  through  a  well  defined  area. 
It  is  found  only  in  the  Old  World:  in  ancient  Egypt,  the 
Mediterranean  and  west  Asiatic  civilizations,  Iran,  India 
and  China  with  her  dependencies.  In  this  area  the  distribu- 
tion of  the  potter's  wheel  has  remained  practically  un- 
changed for  milleniums.  On  the  other  hand,  primitive 
tribes  do  not  seem  to  adopt  it  even  when  surrounded  by 
more  civilized  groups  who  have  it.  Thus,  the  Vedda  of 
Ceylon  fashion  pots  by  hand,  while  the  neighboring  Singa- 
lese  use  the  wheel.  The  African  Negroes,  who  might  have 
learned  the  use  of  the  wheel  from  the  ancient  Egyptians  or 
later  from  the  Arabs,  never  seem  to  have  been  acquainted 
with  its  use.  The  Yakut  of  Northeastern  Siberia  continue 
to  produce  pottery  by  hand,  notwithstanding  their  Inter- 
marriages with  the  Russians  and  the  fact  that  wheel-made 
Russian  pottery  is  for  sale  at  Yakutsk.  Now,  hand-made 
pottery,  argues  Laufer,  Is  as  a  rule  woman's  work,  the  par- 
ticipation of  men  In  this  pursuit  being  always  strictly  local- 
ized and  limited.  The  potter's  wheel,  on  the  other  hand,  Is 
the  creation  of  man.  It  must  therefore  be  regarded  as  an 
entirely  distinct  invention  which  entered  the  field  of  pot- 


'In  his  monograph  on  the  "Beginnings  of  Porcelain  in  China,"  Field 
Museum  of  Natural  History,  Anthropological  Series,  Vol.  XV,  No.  a,  pp. 
148-177. 


3i8  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

tery  from  the  outside,  as  it  were,  and  when  it  came,  man 
came  with  it  and  took  over  the  pot-making  industry. 

This  historic  distinctness  of  the  two  methods  of  pottery 
making  is  reflected  in  the  customs  current  in  different  coun- 
tries. In  India  and  China  the  division  of  ceramic  labor 
sets  apart  the  thrower  or  wheel  potter  and  separates  him 
from  the  molder.  The  potters  of  India  who  work  on  the 
wheel  do  not  intermarry  with  those  who  do  not.  They 
form  a  caste  by  themselves.  There  Is  also  a  functional  dis- 
tinction between  the  two  kinds  of  pots.  And  most  impor- 
tant of  all,  wherever  the  potter's  wheel  is  in  use,  it  is 
manipulated  by  men,  never  by  women. 

Technically  speaking,  the  potter's  wheel  is  nothing  but 
a  primitive  cart  wheel  turning  on  its  axle.  The  existence 
of  the  potter's  wheel  therefore  presupposes  the  existence 
of  the  wheel  adapted  to  transportation.  In  accordance 
with  this,  it  is  found  that  in  all  of  the  civilizations  with  the 
potter's  wheel,  the  cart  wheel  is  also  in  use.  Further, 
wherever  the  potter's  wheel  occurs,  while  the  wheel  cart 
does  not,  the  former  is  known  to  have  been  introduced  from 
a  different  culture.  In  Japan,  for  example,  which  had  no 
cart,  the  potter's  wheel  has  been  introduced  from  Korea, 
while  the  Tibettans,  who  also  lack  wheel  vehicles,  received 
the  potter's  wheel  from  the  Chinese,  who  still  have  the 
monopoly  of  its  handling  in  Tibet.  On  the  other  hand, 
wherever  there  is  no  potter's  wheel,  there  is  also  no  wheeled 
cart.  In  other  words.  In  all  cases  where  original  conditions 
have  remained  undisturbed,  the  wheel  cart  and  the  potter's 
wheel  either  do  not  exist  or  co-exist.  It  Is  thus  clear,  con- 
cludes Laufer,  that  the  potter's  wheel  may  not  be  con- 
ceived as  an  evolutionary  stage  In  the  development  of  pot- 
tery technique;  that  there  is  nothing  in  hand-made  pottery 
to  prepare  such  future  development;  that  the  potter's 
wheel,  which  by  Its  technical  aspect  and  geographic  dis- 
tribution Is  unmistakably  Identified  with  the  cart  wheel, 
belonged  to  a  distinct  and  localized  civilization,  and,  being 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  319 

like  the  cart  wheel  man's  invention,  came  into  the  industry 
of  pot  making  from  the  outside,  bringing  man  with  it. 

The  critical  acumen  displayed  throughout  this  essay,  only 
fragments  of  which  can  be  given  here,  is  extraordinary  and 
it  carries  conviction.  The  contribution  of  the  great  sinol- 
ogist represents  one  of  the  most  illuminating  examples  of 
the  striking  results  that  can  be  obtained  when  the  theory 
of  diffusion,  instead  of  being  used  as  a  sweeping  principle 
of  interpretation,  is  applied  with  unceasing  care  and  critical 
circumspection,  at  the  hand  of  relevant  comparisons  and 
minute  studies  of  local  peculiarities. 

Notwithstanding  the  methodological  weakness  of  Rivers' 
handling  of  the  problem  of  diffusion,  he  deserves  credit  for 
drawing  attention  to  the  multiplicity  of  psychological  factors 
involved  and  for  paving  the  way  for  their  solution.  Clearly, 
the  conception  that  diffusion  is  a  quasi-mechanical  process  of 
the  physical  transplantation  of  cultural  traits  from  one  tribe 
to  another,  cannot  withstand  serious  criticism.  It  is  not 
enough  to  realize  that  a  cultural  feature  leaves  its  original 
home,  travels  and  arrives  in  a  foreign  tribe.  It  is  equally 
important  to  know  how  and  why  it  departs,  what  fates 
befall  it  in  its  wanderings  and  what  reception  it  receives 
in  its  new  home. 

A  passage  from  another  publication  may  prove  illuminat- 
ing in  this  connection: 

"But  even  the  most  superficial  analysis  would  suffice  to 
show  how  little  we  know  about  a  cultural  situation  when  all 
we  know  about  it  is  that  a  feature  belonging  to  a  culture 
has  been  borrowed  by  another  culture.  How  often  does 
such  a  feature  remain  a  foreign  body  in  its  new  cultural 
environment !  Instance  the  art  nouveau  of  western  Europe, 
which,  toward  the  end  of  the  past  century,  spread  through 
the  domain  of  the  plastic  and  decorative  arts,  and,  from 
a  modest  beginning  in  its  application  to  small  decorative 
objects,  rose  to  the  level  of  a  new  artistic  style,  and  all  but 
created  a  novel  form  of  architecture.  Eventually  the  art 
nouveau  crossed  the  Atlantic,  but,  in  its  new  surroundings, 


320  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

proved  most  ineffective.  After  languishing  for  a  number 
of  years  in  the  show-windows  of  fashionable  stationery  and 
art  stores,  it  vanished  without  leaving  any  apparent  trace 
on  any  form  of  American  art. 

"A  somewhat  striking  example  of  a  cultural  feature 
which,  notwithstanding  a  prolonged  objective  association 
with  a  cultural  medium,  failed  to  be  psychologically  assimi- 
lated by  that  medium,  is  furnished  by  the  history  of  classical 
education  in  the  public  schools  of  the  Russian  Empire.  En- 
grafted upon  the  Russian  school  curriculum  by  an  indis- 
criminative  government,  taught  by  teachers  of  foreign 
birth,  radically  at  variance  with  the  intellectual  interests 
and  the  practical  needs  of  the  Russian  educated  classes, 
classicism  in  Russia  never  became  an  integral  part  either  of 
the  culture  of  the  people  or  of  their  educational  system. 

"If  further  instances  be  sought,  they  may  be  readily  found 
wherever  'civilized'  nations  have  come  in  contact  with 
primitive  tribes,  whether  through  colonization,  trade,  or 
scientific  expeditions.  In  all  such  instances  we  find  that  our 
material  culture,  customs,  habits  of  dress  and  behavior, 
even  religious  and  moral  notions,  are  often  adopted  by  the 
nations  in  a  formal  way,  as  it  were,  without  for  long  peri- 
ods of  time  radically  affecting  the  intellectual  or  emotional 
content  of  their  culture,  or  even  their  essential  habits  of 
action. 

"Instances  of  partial  assimilation  of  borrowed  cultural 
features  can  as  readily  be  given.  The  American  university 
with  its  college  and  schools  is  one.  Modelled  after  me- 
diaeval and  more  recent  European  patterns,  the  American 
university  has  to  a  large  extent  become  assimilated  and 
transformed  by  American  life,  with  its  peculiar  ideals  and 
requirements.  The  process,  however,  cannot  be  regarded 
as  completed,  and  evidence  is  plentiful  of  the  varied  malad- 
justments of  our  universities  and  colleges  to  the  practical, 
moral  and  intellectual  requirements  of  today. 

"The  failure  of  the  policy  of  Russianization  in  Poland 
and  Finland  is  another  case  in  point.  Both  Russian  Poland 
and  Finland  have  certainly  absorbed  much  of  Russian  cul- 


I 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  IJ  321 

ture,  but  these  acquired  traits  were  but  partly  assimilated  by 
the  historic  cultures  of  the  two  countries ;  and  in  both  cases 
the  well  co-ordinated  organism  of  an  autonomous  culture  is 
but  superficially  hidden  behind  the  outward  guise  of  Russian 
institutions. 

"Among  the  Kwakiutl  of  the  Northwest  Coast  the  institu- 
tion of  maternal  descent,  no  doubt  derived  from  the  north- 
ern tribes,  without  becoming  the  dominant  form,  was  assimi- 
lated by  the  prevailing  institutions  to  a  sufficient  extent  to 
result  in  a  highly  characteristic  hybrid  organization  which 
combines  features  of  maternal  and  paternal  descent;  in  the 
ghost-dance  religions  of  the  American  Indians  one  easily 
discerns  partly  transformed  features  of  Christian  belief  and 
dogma;  in  Iroquoian  and  other  cosmologies  biblical  in- 
cidents appear  in  transparent  guise;  in  innumerable  Indian 
stories  and  myths,  elements  of  European  folk-lore  are  but 
partly  co-ordinated  with  the  genuine  Indian  content. 

"In  other  cases,  perfect  assimilation  of  imported  elements 
has  taken  place.  In  modern  civilization,  numerous  cultural 
traits  originally  belonging  to  disparate  cultures  have  become 
so  thoroughly  acclimatized  in  their  new  media  as  to  lay  the 
foundation  of  that  ever-progressing  uniformity  in  many 
essentials  of  culture  called  'internationalism.' 

"The  European  horse  has  been  made  their  own  by  the 
Plains  Indians,  even  to  the  extent  of  becoming  one  of  the 
most  characteristic  traits  of  their  culture.  The  Salish  Bella 
Coola  have  borrowed  so  much  and  so  well  of  the  social 
organization,  religion,  ceremonies,  material  culture,  of  the 
coast  peoples,  as  to  become  practically  identical,  culturally, 
with  those  peoples. 

"The  mechanism  and  psychology  of  the  borrowing  pro- 
cesses exemplified  above  would,  if  properly  understood, 
certainly  reveal  profound  and  significant  differences.  By 
embracing  all  of  these  processes  in  the  general  terms  of 
diffusion  or  genetic  relationship,  no  more  is  achieved  than 
to  suggest  the  initial  direction  for  further  research.'" 


*  "The  Principle  of  Limited  Possibilities  in  the  Development  of  Culture" 
(The  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  Vol.  XXVI,  1913). 


322  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

In  many  Instances  the  undoubted  presence  of  borrowed 
traits  must  be  recognized,  but  to  draw  a  sharp  line  between 
W  indigenous  and  borrowed  features  may  nevertheless  remain 
difficult.  A  large  number  of  instances  in  point  are  provided 
by  Paul  Radin  in  his  interesting  sketch  of  the  Peyote 
Cult  of  the  Winnebago.  "There  are  a  number  of  cases," 
writes  Radin,  "where  it  is  impossible  to  determine  whether 
we  are  dealing  with  a  re-interpretation  or  with  a  substitu- 
tion. As  this  is  an  exceedingly  important  question,  I  will 
enumerate  a  few  examples  :  baptism;  the  crook;  confessions; 
and  the  story  of  the  two  roads. 

"Dipping  one's  hand  in  water  and  drawing  lines  on  the 
forehead  of  an  individual  sounds  like  the  real  Christian 
baptism,  to  be  sure.  Yet  we  know  that  painting  the  jpatient's 
face  was  a  prominent  feature  in  the  shaman's  treatment  of 
disease;  and  that  Rave  speaks  of  it  in  connection  with  the 
conversion  of  his  own  wife.  Are  we  then  to  regard  the 
baptism  here  as  a  re-interpretation  of  the  old  Winnebago 
custom,  or  as  a  real  substitution  of  Christian  baptism? 
And  if  the  later  alternative  is  accepted,  what  influence  are 
we  to  ascribe  to  the  older  Winnebago  belief  in  suggesting 
Christian  baptism?  The  same  question  will  have  to  be 
answered  in  connection  with  the  crook,  confessions,  and  the 
story  of  the  two  roads.  The  bear  clan  had  two  ornamented 
sticks,  of  which  Rave's  family  was  the  keeper.  In  general 
appearance  there  was  not  much  difference  between  these 
and  the  Christian  shepherd's  crook.  What  is  the  relation 
of  the  two?  In  the  ritualistic  myth  telling  of  the  road  to 
heaven,  one  finds  the  bifurcating  road,  one  leading  to  Earth- 
maker,  the  other  to  the  Bad  Spirit.  In  the  peyote  cult  we 
find  the  familiar  biblical  story  of  the  two  roads,  one  leading 
to  Heaven,  and  the  other  to  eternal  damnation.  Again, 
let  us  take  the  question  of  the  confessions.  In  their  present 
form  they  certainly  seem  Christian,  with  a  strong  sugges- 
tion of  the  early  Methodists.  Yet  giving  testimony  to  the 
magical  virtues  of  herbs  in  order  to  prove  that  one  has  been 
blessed  by  certain  spirits  was  characteristic  of  all  Winne- 


I 


REFLECTIONS  ON  PART  II  323 

bagoes  when  first  participating  in  a  religious  cult  society. 
Granted  even  that  all  these  things  really  are  Christian  ele- 
ments, it  is  quite  obvious  that  the  fact  that  they  were  so 
readily  accepted,  suggests  a  relation  between  them  and  the 
older  elements  enumerated,  and  that  just  as  in  the  case  of 
ceremonial  units,  so  here  too  there  has  been  a  selective  bor- 
rowing, determined  by  the  specific  possessions  of  the  recipi- 
ent's cultural  background.'" 

The  instances  cited  by  Radin  and  other  similar  situa- 
tions suggest  a  significant  similarity  between  the  phenomena 
of  diffusion,  on  the  one  hand,  and  those  of  indigenous 
growth  on  the  other. 

It  may  be  of  use  here  to  quote  another  passage  from  my 
article  referred  to  before : 

"In  discussions  of  cultural  origins,  and  in  other  connec- 
tions, it  is  customary  to  contrast  the  processes  within  a 
culture  conceived  of  as  'inner  growth'  with  the  processes 
involved  in  cultural  contact.  Now,  in  addition  to  the  dif- 
ferences displayed  by  the  two  sets  of  phenomena,  there  are 
also  fundamental  psychological  similarities.  Ideas  or  cus- 
toms that  come  from  another  culture  may  be  totally  re- 
jected, or,  as  indicated  before,  they  may  either  remain 
essentially  foreign  to  the  new  medium  or  become  partly  or 
thoroughly  assimilated.  These  ideas  or  customs  are  first 
introduced  by  individuals  or  groups  of  individuals,  and 
spread  through  the  cultural  area  by  a  more  or  less  rapid 
process  of  diffusion.  Now,  all  of  these  traits  apply  also  to 
ideas  or  customs  which  spring  up  within  the  group.  They 
also  may  be  rejected,  partly  or  wholly  assimilated,  and  they 
spread  in  essentially  the  same  way.  The  mechanism  and 
psychology  of  the  processes  are  strikingly  similar.  Of 
course,  there  is  an  important  difference :  the  ideas  and  cus- 
toms of  indigenous  origin  are  more  likely  to  prove  accept- 
able and  become  assimilated  than  those  coming  from  with- 
out. This  is  obviously  due  to  the  fact  that  the  ideas  and 
customs  that  spring  up  within  a  culture  are  In  part  deter- 


'"A  Sketch  of  the  Peyote  Cult  of  the  Winnebago,"  Journal  of  Religious 
Psychology,  Vol.  VII,  1914,  p.  22. 


324  EARLY  CIVILIZATION 

mined  by  that  culture,  while  those  that  come  from  without 
are  independent  of  the  recipient  cultural  medium.  The 
main  difference,  then,  seems  to  lie,  not  in  the  processes  of 
moulding  and  assimilation  to  which  the  two  sets  of  ideas 
and  customs  are  subjected  in  a  cultural  medium,  but  to  the 
fact  that  the  range  and  character  of  the  two  sets  of  ideas 
and  customs  are  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  different. 
Clearly,  also,  this  difference  will  be  the  less,  the  greater  the 
similarity  between  the  two  cultures  in  contact. 

"It  thus  appears  that  not  only  are  the  phenomena  of  diffu- 
sion replete  with  psychological  problems,  but  the  character 
of  these  problems  is  in  many  ways  related  to  that  of  the 
problems  arising  in  the  study  of  concrete  cultural  com- 
plexes.'" 

Before  leaving  these  somewhat  fragamentary  remarks 
on  the  problems  of  the  diffusion  of  civilization  it  remains 
to  note  the  great  importance  of  the  diffusion  of  culture  as  a 
stimulant  of  civilization.  Men  like  Ratzel,  Graebner  and, 
in  part.  Rivers,  were  greatly  impressed  by  the  role  of 
diffusion  as  an  objective  constituent  of  human  history.  But 
Rivers,  as  was  shown,  also  recognized  the  significance  of 
diffusion  as  a  condition  of  cultural  growth  and  development.^ 
In  his  recent  "Processes  of  History,"  Professor  Teggart 
practically  identifies  the  very  possibility  of  progress  with 
cultural  contact  and  conflict  under  special  conditions.  As 
against  this  we  must  reiterate  our  former  position  that  the 
diffusion  of  civilization  from  tribe  to  tribe  is  but  one  of  the 
basic  factors  In  cultural  advance,  the  other  factor  being 
human  creatlveness,  resulting  In  the  independent  origina- 
tion of  new  things  and  ideas.^ 


*  "The  Principle  of  Limited  Possibilities,  etc.",  pp.  286-287. 

^Cf.,  for  example,  his  statem.ent  in  the  introduction  to  the  second  volume 
of  his  "History  of  Melanesian  Society":  "The  general  mode  of  treatment 
of  this  book  holds  a  middle  course  between  those  of  the  evolutionary  and 
historical  schools  because  the  principle  underlying  it  is  that  the  contact  of 
peoples  and  the  blending  of  their  cultures  act  as  the  chief  stimuli  setting  in 
action  the  forces  which  lead  to  human  progress"  (pp.  5-6). 

'C/.  my  essay  on  "History,  Psychology  and  Culture,"  Journal  of  Philoso- 
phy, Psychology  and  Scientific  Methods,  Vol.  XV,  Section  XII,  "The  De- 
terministic and  the  Accidental  in  History." 


PART  III 
THE  IDEAS  OF  EARLY  MAN 


1 


INTRODUCTION 

The  missing  link  of  biology  has  its  psychological  ana- 
logue. There  are,  in  fact,  many  such  psychological  missing 
links.  Whether  our  ancestor  was  the  anthropoid  ape  or  his 
cousin,  or  a  common  relative  of  both  and  of  man,  the  psy- 
chology of  our  closest  known  precursors  is  so  far  different 
from  our  own  as  to  be  scarcely  commeasurable  with  it.  Nor 
is  this  all.  If  one  attempts  to  picture,  in  abstraction,  this 
psycho-physical  missing  link  of  a  man,  what  are  the  symp- 
toms of  identification  to  be?  Is  it  language,  or  the  use  of 
tools,  or  religion,  or  the  art  of  living  together  with  one's 
kind  in  some  sort  of  regulated  community?  And  in  accord- 
ance with  the  symptom  chosen,  the  being  thus  identified 
would  be  a  different  one. 

To  this  a  conceivable  answer  might  be  that  the  primitive 
man  in  question,  the  psychological  missing  link,  would  be 
like  the  man  of  today  or  of  yesterday,  minus  civilization. 
But  then,  who  is  there  to  tell  us  where  civilization  ends  and 
the  original  nature  of  man  begins,  or  what  would  be  left 
of  man  were  civilization  removed? 

The  difficulties  besetting  this  problem  marred  the  cogency 
of  the  numerous  speculations  about  our  psychological  fore- 
runner. Some,  like  Rousseau,  conceived  of  him  as  of  an 
apotheosized  animal  before  the  fall,  peaceful,  pure  and 
beautifully  adjusted  to  the  social  life  about  him;  and,  with 
him,  of  Eve,  equally  pure  and  peaceful.  It  is  indeed  fairly 
easy  to  find  illustrations  of  such  quasi-beatific  conditions 
among  early  communities,  and  Spencer,  who  had  his  own 
anti-militaristic  axe  to  grind,  is  fond  of  quoting  such  ex- 
amples whenever  required.  The  theologians  of  two  and 
three  generations  ago  felt  themselves  in  accord  with  biblical 
tradition  when  they  interpreted  the  civilizations  of  primi- 
tive man  as  now  found  on  the  surface  of  the  globe  as  rep- 
resenting decaying  remnants  of  once  higher  civilizations. 

327 


328  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

And  here  once  more  Herbert  Spencer,  the  arch-evolutionist, 
is  tempted  to  account  by  regression  and  decay  for  some  sur- 
prisingly high  civilizational  "remnants"  among  primitive 
tribes. 

Part  of  Spencer's  psychological  speculations  refer,  as  we 
shall  see,  to  that  apocryphal  individual,  man  without  civili- 
zation. In  this  connection,  one  fact  is  certain:  early  man 
as  we  know  him,  the  early  man  represented  by  the  surviving 
tribes  of  American  Indians,  Negroes  or  Australians,  is  as 
far  removed  from  the  psychological  missing  link  as  we  are 
ourselves.  He  has  a  historic  past.  His  history  is,  in  fact, 
as  long  as  ours.  It  might  Indeed  be  deemed  longer,  if  our 
history  is  to  begin  with  a  civilization  at  all  like  our  own. 
Historic  fates  have  driven  him  in  directions  differing  vastly 
from  that  taken  by  modern  civilization;  but  in  his  past,  as 
in  ours,  there  was  historic  cumulation  of  knowledge  and 
tradition;  there  was  Invention  and  change;  slow,  gradual 
transformation  and  cataclysmic  upheaval;  and,  perhaps  at 
intervals,  regression  and  decay.  Where  among  these  his- 
torically deposited  civilizational  layers  are  we  to  discern  the 
original  nature  of  man?  Like  the  kernel  of  Peer  Gynt's 
onion,  it  evades  us: 

What  an  enormous  number  of  swathings! 

Isn't  the  kernel  soon  coming  to  light? 

I'm  blest  if  it  is !     To  the  innermost  centre  it's  nothing  but  swathings — 

each  smaller  and  smaller — 
Nature  is  witty! 

Yes,  and  tantalizingly  obscure.  The  fact  is  that  man, 
early  as  well  as  modern,  lives  by  second  nature.  His  origi- 
nal nature  is  an  abstraction  or  at  best  but  a  reconstruction 
born  of  doubtful  premises,  swaying  insecurely  in  the  chro- 
nological vacuum  of  missing  links.  When  we  study  early 
man,  it  Is  not  this  phantom-like  creature  that  concerns  us, 
but  the  concrete  early  man  of  history  and  of  civilization, 
our  brother  in  second  nature. 

Space  does  not  permit  to  review  here  any  large  number 
of  the  theories  promulgated  about  the  mentality  of  primi- 


INTRODUCTION  329 

tive  man.  But  before  we  summarize  our  own  conclusions, 
in  which  connection  the  data  here  presented  will  be  found  of 
use,  it  may  be  of  interest  to  outline  and  briefly  to  criticize  a 
few  of  the  more  prominent  attempts  to  interpret  primitive 
mentality. 

The  theories  to  be  discussed  are  those  of  Spencer,  Frazer, 
Wundt,  Durkheim,  Levy-Bruhl  and  Freud. 


CHAPTER   XV 
THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY 

Spencer's  Theories 

Like  so  many  others,  Spencer  found  that  the  most  prom- 
ising approach  to  primitive  mentality  was  through  religion. 
Hence  the  first  part  of  the  first  volume  of  his  Sociology  is 
devoted  to  this  subject.  The  following  three  elements  of 
Spencer's  theory  have  received  wide  attention :  fear,  as  the 
emotional  root  of  all  religion;  the  idea  of  a  ghost,  derived 
in  the  main  from  the  dream  image;  and  ancestor  wor- 
ship, which  in  Spencer's  system  becomes  the  prototype  of  all 
religious  ceremonialism. 

On  the  general  background  of  the  idea  of  a  double — 
which,  as  will  be  presently  shown,  Spencer  derives  from 
certain  other  experiences — the  dream  image  comes  upon 
the  scene.  Into  the  conceptual  chaos  of  incipient  animism 
the  dream  image  brings  order  and  unity.  It  reduces  to  a 
a  common  denominator  the  at  first  discordant  ideas  of  dual- 
ity and  spirituality.  The  spiritualized  double,  linked  to 
man  through  the  medium  of  the  dream  image,  becomes, 
after  death,  the  ghost.  This,  according  to  Spencer,  is  the 
cornerstone  of  early  theology.  The  ghost,  spirit  of  a  de- 
parted man,  becomes  a  general  principle  of  interpretation 
of  all  puzzles  in  savage  experience.  The  breath,  the 
shadow,  the  echo,  epileptic  and  cataleptic  fits,  and  finally 
death  itself,  are  now  interpreted  through  the  operation, 
intrusion  or  departure  of  ghosts.  The  feelings  of  fear  and 
awe,  which  early  become  associated  with  these  disquieting 
agents,  provide  the  emotional  root  of  the  earliest  religion, 
the  propitiation  of  ancestors.  From  this  all  the  rest  fol- 
lows. By  means  of  a  great  collection  of  highly  ingenious 
hypotheses  Spencer  tries  to  explain  how  animal,  plant  and 

330 


I 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY  331 

nature  worship  are  ultimately  derivable  from  this  early  cult 
of  ancestors,  and  how  the  higher  forms  of  religion,  includ- 
ing the  belief  in  one  supreme  personal  deity,  gradually  arise 
out  of  the  decay  of  some  of  these  early  ideas  and  the  coa- 
lescence of  others.  The  artificiality  of  Spencer's  treatment 
in  this  part  of  his  work  is  best  illustrated  by  his  once  famous 
theory  of  the  misinterpretation  of  nicknames  introduced  by 
the  author  as  an  attempt  to  furnish  at  least  a  partial  ex- 
planation of  animal  worship. 

This  is  the  theory: 

Primitive  tribes  are  wont  to  designate  individuals  by  ani- 
mal names.  Now  suppose  a  man  named  Bear  distinguishes 
himself  as  a  warrior,  chief,  medicine-man  or  in  some  other 
way.  His  children  will  pride  themselves  on  being  known  as 
the  children  of  the  Bear.  So  will  their  children,  who  may 
still  have  seen  their  grandfather  alive  and  who  know  many 
individuals  to  whom  his  name  has  an  emotional  value.  After 
this  the  identity  of  the  ancestor  rapidly  fades.  Moreover,  In 
view  of  the  tendency  of  primitive  languages  to  confuse  a 
name  with  a  thing  named  (sic/) ,  the  Idea  will  take  root  that 
the  Bear's  descendents  were  really  the  descendents  of  a  bear, 
there  being  nothing  extraordinary  in  this  conception  for 
primitive  mentality.  The  respect,  veneration,  and  perhaps 
worship  accorded  the  eminent  ancestor  will  now  be  centered 
on  the  bear.     Thus  bear  worship  will  arise  in  the  group. 

The  theory  is  so  obviously  far-fetched  that  no  anthropo- 
logical training  Is  required  to  reject  all  serious  consideration 
of  it,  but  In  Its  time  it  enjoyed  considerable  renown.  Spencer, 
moreover,  was  not  satisfied  to  leave  it  in  this  form,  but 
pursued  it  further  with  that  merciless  "logic"  characteristic 
of  the  philosopher.  We  also  find  in  this  phenomenon, 
argues  Spencer,  an  explanation  of  the  worship  of  those 
strange  creatures  whose  very  existence  in  primitive  civiliza- 
tion has  so  often  puzzled  the  investigator.  Whence  come 
the  strange  monsters,  half  animal,  half  human,  half  bird, 
half  reptile,  In  the  absence  of  all  confirmatory  experience? 
Why,  the  same  process  furnishes  a  ready  explanation.    The 


332  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

remote  descendents  of  a  Lion  man  and  an  Eagle  woman 
may  come  to  regard  their  family  line  as  having  originated 
from  a  lion  and  an  eagle.  At  first  separated  into  two 
creatures,  the  ancestral  couple  will  ultimately  merge  into 
one  animalistic  monster,  a  lion-eagle,  a  creature  part  lion, 
part  eagle.  Similarly,  when  the  custom  of  animal  names 
begins  to  give  way  before  the  later  tendency  of  giving 
human  names,  the  monster  creatures  will  often  assume  the 
shape  of  a  half  human,  half  animal  individual ;  until  finally, 
animal  names  having  meanwhile  gone  out  of  use,  purely 
human  ancestors  will  command  in  person  the  respect  and 
worship  which  heretofore  was  accorded  them  in  animal  or 
half  animal  disguise. 

A  better  instance  of  the  rationalization  of  the  historic 
process  could  scarcely  be  found  than  this  derivation  of 
animal  worship  from  the  misinterpretation  of  nicknames! 

In  the  light  of  fuller  knowledge  and  in  the  face  of  the 
demands  of  a  critical  method  other  elements  of  Spencer's 
theory  prove  equally  fallacious.  The  very  idea  of  a  double 
as  the  first  form  of  spirit  is  questionable,  for  multiplicity 
of  spirits  or  souls  of  individuals  is  so  commonly  encoun- 
tered among  even  the  most  primitive  communities  that  it 
may  well  be  assumed  that  In  many  instances,  if  not  in  all,  a 
plurality  of  souls  preceded  one  soul.*  The  derivation  of 
all  spirits  from  ghosts  is  no  less  artificial.  No  ground,  in 
fact,  can  be  advanced  for  this  assertion  save  the  philoso- 
pher's addiction  to  monogenetic  derivations.'  It  is  equally 
doubtful  whether  fear  constituted  the  most  conspicuous  in- 
gredient of  the  emotion  at  the  root  of  earliest  religion.  The 
ethnographic  evidence  decidedly  contradicts  the  assumption 


'Levy-Bruhl  is  amply  justified  in  insisting  on  this  point.  While  Wund^s 
ideas  of  early  animism  differ  from  Levy-Bruhl's  in  many  ways,  he  is 
equally  emphatic  in  his  insistence  on  the  multiplicity  of  "body  souls" — souls 
connected  with  the  separate  organs  of  the  body — which  must  have  preceded 
the  more  generalized  notion  of  a  "free"  detachable  soul. 

*In  this  as  in  a  number  of  other  points  E.  B.  Tylor's  derivation  of 
animism  is  less  objectionable  than  Spencer's.  Instead  of  deriving  the  human 
spirit  (ghost)  alone  from  the  experiences  of  the  dream  and  then  permitting 
the  rest  of  Nature  to  become  populated  with  ghosts,  Tylor  derives  all  spirits 
from  dream  experiences. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      333 

that  ancestor  worship  was  the  earliest  form  of  worship,  for 
nowhere  is  the  cult  of  ancestors  found  among  most  primi- 
tive tribes;  while  its  more  developed  forms  do  not  make 
their  appearance  until  relatively  high  civilizations  are 
reached,  such  as  those  of  Polynesia  and  Melanesia.  Full 
fledged  ancestor  worship,  in  fact,  does  not  arise  until  a  social 
basis  is  provided  for  it  by  that  hypertrophy  of  the  family 
instinct  which  lies  at  the  root  of  the  ancestral  cult  of  ancient 
China  and  Japan.  And  it  is,  of  course,  quite  obvious  that 
religion  seized  upon  man's  relation  to  inanimate  nature,  to 
plants,  and  above  all,  to  animals,  without  waiting  until  an 
obliging  ghost  appeared  in  animal,  plant  or  other  material 
disguise. 

It  would,  however,  be  quite  unfair  to  the  philosopher  to 
dismiss  his  speculations  in  this  domain  with  the  above  con- 
demnatory account  of  the  theory  of  primitive  religion,  for 
in  re-reading  some  earlier  paragraphs  and  passages  of  the 
same  volume,  one  discovers  with  some  surprise  unmistakable 
evidence  of  a  penetrating  insight  and  of  critical  discernment. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  idea  of  a  ghost,  itself 
derived  from  the  dream  image,  was  utilized  by  Spencer  as 
what  he  himself  called  an  "unconscious  hypothesis"  on  the 
part  of  the  primitive  mind,  which  reduced  to  a  common 
denominator  a  host  of  similar  ideas  derived  from  a  variety 
of  observations. 

What  were  these  observations  and  in  what  way  does 
Spencer  deal  with  them? 

The  observations  are  made  in  the  course  of  the  savage's 
experience  with  a  great  variety  of  natural  phenomena.  The 
shadow,  reflection,  echo;  the  cloud,  sun,  moon  and  stars; 
the  metamorphoses  of  plants,  insects,  birds  and  animals; 
even  such  relatively  rare  phenomena  as  petrified  trees  and 
the  remains  of  trees,  plants  and  animals  in  rocks;  all  of 
these  contribute  their  share.  The  shadow  is  like  a  person, 
but  also  unlike  it.  It  follows  one  about,  moves  when  he 
moves  and  stops  when  he  stops.  But  throughout  it  mani- 
fests certain  peculiarities  of  its  own.     It  assumes  distorted 


334  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

shapes,  grows  in  size,  or  becomes  shorter ;  finally,  it  may  dis- 
appear altogether,  becoming,  as  it  were,  merged  in  the 
person.  The  reflection  behaves  in  a  similar  way.  It  is 
not  so  constant  a  companion  as  is  the  shadow;  on  the  other 
hand,  the  presence  of  color  makes  its  resemblance  to  the 
person  more  striking.  The  echo  behaves  in  no  less  peculiar 
a  fashion.  It  does  not  always  put  in  an  appearance,  and 
when  it  does,  it  may  either  be  distinct  or  scarcely  audible. 
It  may  repeat  whole  words  or  even  sentences  or  merely 
ends  of  words  or  syllables.  It  may  do  so  once  or  many 
times  in  succession.  The  cloud  gathers  in  the  sky  apparently 
out  of  nothing.  It  may  stay  there  a  short  or  a  long  while, 
and  then  disappear,  as  it  came,  into  nothing.  The  sun, 
moon,  stars  appear  in  the  sky,  move  along  slowly  but  unmis- 
takably, and  vanish,  to  re-eappear  again  after  a  certain 
period.  The  seed  in  the  ground  is  nothing  but  a  seed.  But 
presently  it  turns  into  a  flower  or  a  bush  or  a  tree.  The 
egg  becomes  a  bird  or  a  snake ;  the  caterpillar  turns  into  a 
butterfly.  That  invisible  agents  may  make  their  presence 
felt  is  brought  home  forcibly  by  the  wind.  It  has  no  visible 
form,  yet  it  can  be  heard  and  its  presence  is  also  attested  to 
by  the  behavior  of  exposed  objects  and  creatures  as  well  as 
by  the  sense  of  pressure  or  resistance  in  the  observing  in- 
dividual. 

Now  all  of  these  experiences,  argues  Spencer,  can  only 
lead  to  one  conclusion.  Things  may  have  a  visible  and  an 
invisible  form,  an  overt  and  an  implied  existence.  And,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  shadow,  or  the  echo,  or  the  reflection,  the 
original  and  its  double  exist  side  by  side. 

"He  (the  savage)  is  commonly  pictured  as  theorizing 
about  certain  appearances;"  writes  Spencer  in  this  connec- 
tion, "whereas,  in  fact,  the  need  for  explanations  of  them 
does  not  occur  to  him  .  .  .  ."^  The  savage  does  not  the- 
orize, he  simply  accepts  the  facts.  In  doing  so  he  does  not 
offend  against  logic.     "The  laws  of  thought,"  says  Spencer, 


'Principles  of  Sociology,"  Vol.  I,  Part  i,  p.  89, 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       335 

"are  everywhere  the  same;  .  .  .  given  the  data  as  known 
to  him,  primitive  man's  inference  is  a  reasonable  inference."^ 
It  is  indeed  inevitable,  reflects  the  philosopher,  that  the 
savage  should  thus  be  led  into  error:  "The  terms  of  re- 
lations are  grouped  (by  the  savage)  with  those  which  they 
conspicuously  resemble,  and  the  relations  themselves  are 
grouped  in  like  manner.  But  this  leads  to  error;  since 
the  most  obvious  traits  are  not  always  those  by  which 
things  are  really  allied  to  one  another,  and  the  most  obvious 
characters  of  relations  are  not  always  their  essential  char- 
acters."^ 

Spencer  further  observes  that  modern  conditions  provide 
plentiful  illustrations  of  this  tendency  of  the  uninstructed  or 
partly  instructed  mind  to  accept  conclusions  without  ques- 
tion or  criticism,  even  though  these  may  only  consist  in  a 
term.  The  plumber  who  asserts  that  the  pump  works  by 
suction,  or  the  layman  who  attributes  certain  effects  to  elec- 
tricity may  not  have  any  idea  of  what  is  implied  by  these 
terms:  "The  mental  tension  is  sufliciently  relieved  when, 
to  the  observed  result,  there  is  joined  in  thought  this  some- 
thing with  a  name;  but  there  is  no  notion  what  the  some- 
thing really  is,  nor  the  remotest  idea  how  the  result  can  be 
wrought  by  it.  Having  such  results  furnished  by  those 
around  us,  we  shall  have  no  diflSiculty  in  seeing  how  the 
savage,  with  fewer  experiences,  more  vaguely  grouped, 
adopts,  as  quite  adequate,  the  first  explanation  which 
familiar  associations  suggest."" 

Summarizing  these  conclusions  in  a  later  section  of  his 
book,  Spencer  writes:  "We  recognize  in  fact  that  the 
primitive  mind  does  not  distinguish  natural  from  unnatural, 
possible  from  impossible;*  knows  nothing  of  physical  law, 
order,  cause,  etc. ;  and  that  while  he  shows  neither  rational 
surprise  nor  the  curiosity  which  prompts  examination,  he 


^Ibid,  p.  100. 

''Ibid,  pp.  loo-ioi. 

^Ibid,  p.  105. 

*These  two  propositions  are  doubtful. 


336  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

lacks  fit  words  for  carrying  on  inquiry,  as  well  as  the  re- 
quisite power  of  continued  thought;'  we  see  that  instead  of 
being  a  speculator  and  maker  of  explanations,  he  is  at  first 
an  almost  passive  recipient  of  conclusions  forced  on  him. 
Further,  we  find  that  he  is  inevitably  betrayed  into  an  initial 
error;  and  that  this  originates  an  erroneous  system  of 
thought  which  elaborates  as  he  advances."" 

It  is  these  conceptions  of  duality,  of  double  existence,  that 
are,  according  to  Spencer,  later  reduced  to  a  common  de- 
nominator through  the  introduction  of  an  "unconscious 
hypothesis"  in  the  form  of  the  dream  image,  which  in  its 
capacity  of  a  ghost,  leads  to  those  further  developments 
with  which  we  dealt  in  the  beginning  of  this  section. 

Now,  we  saw  how  one-sided  and  artificial  were  the 
alleged  results  traced  by  Spencer  to  the  workings  of  this 
unconscious  hypothesis;  nor  need  we  accept  as  relevant  all 
of  the  data  from  which,  according  to  Spencer,  the  early  con- 
ception of  duality  was  derived.  The  fact  remains  that 
Spencer  visualizes  this  early  situation  in  an  eminently  sober 
spirit.  The  savage  accepts  the  facts  which  experience 
forces  upon  him;  without  conscious  deliberation  he  reaches 
the  implied  conclusions  which  are,  in  view  of  his  ignorance, 
reasonable,  although  in  fact,  erroneous.  And  presently 
there  emerges  a  world  view,  reasonable  in  itself,  but  errone- 
ous because  the  premises  are  faulty.  In  fairness  to  Spencer 
we  might  well  emphasize  the  theoretical  sanity  of  this  part 
of  his  essay  on  primitive  mentality  and  religion.^ 


^The  last  three  statements  can  only  be  accepted  with  reservations. 

^Ibid,  p.  424. 

'In  the  same  part  of  his  Sociology,  Spencer  expresses  certain  ideas  on 
evolution  which  could  not  offhand  be  identified  as  coming  from  the  arch- 
evolutionist.  To  counterbalance  our  usually  critical  strictures  on  the 
philosopher,  one  or  two  of  these  edifying  passages  may  be  quoted  here: 
"Evolution  is  commonly  conceived  to  imply  in  everything  an  intrinsic 
tendency  to  become  something  higher.  This  is  an  erroneous  conception  of 
it."  Spencer  proceeds  to  note  that  evolution  in  organisms  proceeds  until 
equilibration  with  environmental  conditions  is  reached.  After  this  "evolu- 
tion practically  ceases."  Then,  if  new  conditions  arise,  there  is  further 
change,  "but  it  by  no  means  follows  that  this  change  constitutes  a  step  in 
evolution."  What  is  true  of  biological  organisms  is  true  of  society;  "A 
social  organism,  like  an  individual  organism,  undergoes  modifications  until 


i 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      337 

Frazer's  Theories 

Frazer's  contribution  to  the  analysis  of  primitive  men- 
tality lies  in  two  directions :  he  furnishes  an  interpretation 
of  magic  and  its  relation  to  religion  and  he  suggests  an 
origin  for  certain  social  divisions  and  correlated  functions. 

The  basic  source  of  magical  ideology,  argues  Frazer,  lies 
in  the  fundamental  processes  underlying  the  association  of 
ideas.  When  a  doll  fashioned  in  the  similitude  of  an  enemy 
or  just  intended  to  represent  one,  is  maltreated  in  the  expec- 
tation that  a  similar  fate  will  befall  its  original,  it  is  the 
association  by  similarity  that  is  operative.  When  harm 
is  supposed  to  befall  a  person  whose  enemy  has  in  his  pos- 
session some  of  that  person's  hair  or  nail  shavings  or  even 
a  piece  of  wearing  apparel,  and  may  deal  with  these  at  his 
pleasure,  it  is  the  association  by  contiguity  that  is  responsible 
for  the  complex  of  the  ensuing  beliefs.  It  is  notable  thereby, 
continues  the  author,  that  the  results  achieved  by  magic  are 
supposed  to  follow  automatically  and  inevitably  whenever 
the  prescribed  conditions  are  fulfilled.  That  spirits  and 
other  supernatural  agents  are  often  involved  in  magical 
procedure,  Frazer  cannot  deny.  But  he  claims  that  "when- 
ever sympathetic  magic  occurs  in  its  pure  unadulterated 
form,  it  assumes  that  in  nature  one  event  follows  another 
necessarily  and  inevitably,  without  the  intervention  of  any 
personal  or  spiritual  agency.  Thus  its  fundamental  con- 
ception is  identical  with  that  of  modern  science ;  underlying 
the  whole  system  is  a  faith,  implicit  but  real  and  firm,  in 
the  order  and  uniformity  of  nature.'" 


it  comes  into  equilibrium  with  environing  conditions;  and  thereupon  con- 
tinues without  any  further  change  of  structure.  When  the  conditions  are 
changed  meteorologically,  or  biologically,  or  by  alterations  in  the  Flora  and 
Fauna,  or  by  migration  consequent  on  pressure  of  population,  or  by  flight 
before  usurping  races,  some  change  of  social  structure  results.  But  this 
change  does  not  necessarily  imply  advance."     {Ibid,  pp.  95-96.) 

On  the  basis  of  such  pronouncements  as  this,  Spencer  might  have  reached 
a  working  agreement  with  Ellsworth  Huntington,  J.  Teggart,  W.  H.  R. 
Rivers,  and  other  modern  ethnologists.  Unfortunately,  there  is  little  evi- 
dence in  the  constructive  elaboration  of  Spencer's  system,  of  the  insight  and 
caution  revealed  in  these  passages. 

'  "The  Golden  Bough,"  "The  Magic  Art,"  Vol.  I,  p.  azo. 


338  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

It  is  true  that  this  correspondence  between  science  and 
magic  is  for  the  magician  not  avowed  but  implicit,  but  that 
it  is.  If  only  he  fulfills  the  prescribed  and  traditional 
routine  in  the  form  of  ritual,  incantation  or  what  not,  the 
desired  result  may  be  confidently  expected.  We  read: 
"Thus  the  analogy  between  the  magical  and  the  scientific 
conceptions  of  the  world  is  close.  In  both  of  them  the  suc- 
cession of  events  is  perfectly  regular  and  certain,  being  de- 
termined by  immutable  laws,  the  operation  of  which  can  be 
foreseen  and  calculated  precisely;  the  elements  of  caprice, 
of  chance,  and  of  accident  are  banished  from  the  course 
of  nature.  Both  of  them  open  up  a  seemingly  boundless 
vista  of  possibilities  to  him  who  knows  the  causes  of  things 
and  can  touch  the  secret  springs  that  set  in  motion  the  vast 
and  intricate  mechanism  of  the  world.  Hence  the  strong 
attraction  which  magic  and  science  alike  have  exercised 
on  the  human  mind ;  hence  the  powerful  stimulus  that  both 
have  given  to  the  pursuit  of  knowledge.  They  lure  the 
weary  enquirer,  the  foot-sore  seeker,  on  through  the  wilder- 
ness of  disappointment  in  the  present  by  their  endless  prom- 
ises of  the  future :  they  take  him  up  to  the  top  of  an  exceed- 
ing high  mountain  and  shew  him,  beyond  the  dark  clouds 
and  rolling  mists  at  his  feet,  a  vision  of  the  celestial  city, 
far  off,  it  may  be,  but  radiant  with  unearthly  splendor, 
bathed  in  the  light  of  dreams.'" 

In  a  discourse  on  magical  potency,  literary  spellbinding 
may  be  in  place.  We  may  be  prompted  to  ask,  however,  in 
how  far  this  picturesque  phraseology  furthers  an  insight 
into  the  world  view  of  magic?  But  let  us  continue  the 
exposition  of  the  author's  ideas. 

Magic  is  related  to  religion  as  well  as  to  science.  In  this 
connection  Frazer  defines  religion  as  "a  propitiation  or  con- 
ciliation of  powers  superior  to  man  which  are  believed  to 
direct  and  control  the  course  of  nature  and  of  human 
life."^    Thus,  religion  is  opposed  to  magic  as  well  as  to 


^Ibid,  p.  221. 
'Ibid,  p.  222. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       339 

science  Insofar  as  It  systematically  makes  use  of  conscious 
personal  agents.  Science  is  never  concerned  with  these, 
deliberately  excluding  them  from  its  interpretations;  while 
magic,  whenever  it  makes  use  of  them,  employs  such  super- 
natural personages  as  mere  transfer  points  of  magic  influ- 
ence, thus  depriving  them  of  all  spontaneity  and  freedom  of 
decision. 

Having  defined  religion  in  the  way  just  indicated,  the 
author  proceeds  to  point  out  that  in  primitive  Australia 
magic  is  rampant,  whereas  religion  is  practically  absent. 
The  author  admits,  however,  that  throughout  the  major 
part  of  the  globe  and  wide  periods  of  history,  magic  and 
religion  are  inextricably  interwoven. 

Returning  once  more  to  the  subject  of  magic  and  religion 
in  connection  with  the  chronological  priority  of  one  or  the 
other  of  the  two  systems  of  belief,  the  author  finds  grounds 
to  assign  such  priority  to  magic.  "Yet  though  magic  is  thus 
found  to  fuse  and  amalgamate  with  religion  in  many  ages 
and  in  many  lands,"  thus  runs  Frazer's  argument,  "there 
are  some  grounds  for  thinking  that  this  fusion  is  not  primi- 
tive, and  that  there  was  a  time  when  man  trusted  to  magic 
alone  for  the  satisfaction  of  such  wants  as  transcended  his 
immediate  animal  cravings.  In  the  first  place  a  considera- 
tion of  the  fundamental  notions  of  magic  and  religion  may 
incline  us  to  surmise  that  magic  is  older  than  religion  in  the 
history  of  humanity.  We  have  seen  that  on  the  one  hand 
magic  is  nothing  but  a  mistaken  application  of  the  very 
simplest  and  most  elementary  processes  of  the  mind,  namely, 
the  association  of  ideas  by  virtue  of  resemblance  or  con- 
tiguity; and  that  on  the  other  hand  religion  assumes  the 
operation  of  conscious  or  personal  agents,  superior  to  man, 
behind  the  visible  screen  of  nature.  Obviously,  the  concep- 
tion of  personal  agents  is  more  complex  than  a  simple  recog- 
nition of  the  similarity  or  contiguity  of  ideas;  and  a  theory 
which  assumes  that  the  course  of  nature  Is  determined  by 
conscious  agents  is  more  abstruse  and  recondite,  and  re- 
quires for  its  apprehension  a  far  higher  degree  of  intelli- 


340  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

gence  and  reflection  than  the  view  that  things  succeed  each 
other  simply  by  reason  of  their  contiguity  or  resemblance. 
The  very  beasts  associate  the  ideas  of  things  that  are  like 
each  other  or  that  have  been  found  together  in  their  experi- 
ence ;  and  they  could  hardly  survive  for  a  day  if  they  ceased 
to  do  so.  But  who  attributes  to  the  animals  a  belief  that 
the  phenomena  of  nature  are  worked  by  a  multitude  of  in- 
visible animals  or  by  one  enormous  and  prodigiously  strong 
animal  behind  the  scenes?  It  is  probably  no  injustice  to 
the  brutes  to  assume  that  the  honor  of  devising  a  theory 
of  this  latter  sort  must  be  reserved  for  human  reason. 
Thus,  if  magic  be  deduced  immediately  from  elementary 
processes  of  reasoning,  and  be,  in  fact,  an  error  into  which 
the  mind  falls  almost  spontaneously,  while  religion  rests 
on  conceptions  which  the  merely  animal  intelligence  can 
hardly  be  supposed  to  have  yet  attained  to,  it  becomes  prob- 
able that  magic  arose  before  religion  in  the  evolution  of 
our  race,  and  that  man  essayed  to  bend  nature  to  his  wishes 
by  the  sheer  force  of  spells  and  enchantments  before  he 
strove  to  coax  and  mollify  a  coy,  capricious,  or  irascible 
deity  by  the  soft  Insinuation  of  prayer  and  sacrifice."' 

Frazer's  other  contribution  deals  with  the  origin  of 
exogamy  specifically  In  its  association  with  the  Australian 
phratric  and  class  divisions.  "In  the  whole  of  history,  .  .  ." 
exclaims  Frazer,  "it  would  hardly  be  possible  to  find  another 
human  institution  on  which  the  impress  of  deliberate 
thought  and  purpose  has  been  stamped  more  plainly  than 
on  the  exogamous  systems  of  Australian  aborigines.'" 

In  what  peculiarity,  then,  of  the  exogamous  system  does 
the  author  find  such  unequivocal  evidence  of  "deliberate 
thought  and  purpose"?  It  will  be  readily  seen  that  the 
two  moiety  system,  if  associated  with  maternal  descent, 
prevents  the  intermarriage  of  mothers  and  sons  and  of 
brothers  and  sisters;  and  when  associated  with  paternal 
descent,  it  prevents  the  marriage  of  fathers  and  daughters 


^Ibid,  pp.  233-234. 

Totemism  and  Exogamy,  Vol.  IV,  p.  121. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       341 

and,  once  more,  of  brothers  and  sisters.  It  must,  however, 
be  noted  that  the  intermarriage  of  fathers  and  daughters 
is  not  made  impossible  by  the  first  type  of  organization, 
while  the  second  does  not  prevent  the  intermarriage  of 
mothers  and  sons.  In  the  four-class  system,  where  each 
phratry  or  moiety  is  subdivided  into  two  classes,  no  loop- 
hole is  left  for  such  incestuous  unions.  In  the  four-class 
systems,  when  the  descent  of  the  moiety  is  paternal,  the 
marriage  of  father  and  daughter  is,  of  course,  impossible; 
so  is  the  marriage  of  mother  and  son,  as  the  children  all 
belong  to  the  complementary  class  of  the  father's  phratry 
into  which  the  mother  may  not  marry.  Similarly,  with 
maternal  descent  of  the  phratry,  the  children  belong  to  the 
complementary  class  of  the  mother's  phratry,  into  which 
the  father  may  not  marry,  which  would  thus  prevent  the 
marriage  of  father  and  daughter.  It  can  also  be  shown 
that  further  extension  of  prohibited  unions  between  rela- 
tives is  achieved  by  the  eight-class  system. 

Now  Frazer  holds  that  the  bisection  of  the  original  group 
as  well  as  the  subsequent  bisections  resulting  in  the  four- 
and  eight-class  systems,  were  conceived  and  carried  out  by 
"some  inventive  genius" — by  this  the  powerful  old  men  of 
Australian  communities  are  meant — who  instituted  the  sys- 
tem of  exogamy  "at  once  so  complex  and  so  regular"  in 
order  to  prevent  the  intermarriages  of  near  kin.  To 
enhance  the  verisimilitude  of  his  conjecture,  the  author 
refers  to  the  opinion  of  those  "who  are  best  acquainted  at 
first  hand  with  the  Australian  savages"- — such  as  Spencer 
and  Gillen — that  the  Australian  old  men  are  "capable  both 
of  conceiving  and  of  executing  such  social  reformations  as 
are  implied  in  the  institution  of  their  present  marriage 
system.'" 

There  is  Indeed  evidence  in  Frazer's  own  work  that  the 
author  was  aware  of  the  improbability  of  his  sociological 
assumption.  It  is  well  known  that  Lewis  H.  Morgan  at- 
tributed the  institution  of  the  Iroquoian  clans  to  a  deliberate 

^Ibidj  p.  280. 


342  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

legislative  act  of  a  great  leader,  his  opinion  in  this  case 
being  supported  not  by  those  who  knew  the  Iroquois  best 
but  by  the  Iroquois  themselves.  Frazer  rejects  Morgan's 
theory:  "It  is  no  longer  possible,"  he  argues,  "to  attribute 
the  Institution  of  the  totemic  clans  to  the  sagacity  of  savage 
law  givers  who  devised  and  created  them  for  the  purpose 
of  knitting  together  the  various  tribes  by  the  ties  of  mar- 
riage and  consanguinity.  Yet  that  the  subdivision  of  the 
whole  community  into  clans  had  this  effect  is  undeniable.'" 
But  with  reference  to  the  Australian  conditions  Frazer  him- 
self advances  an  analogous  hypothesis. 

In  criticising  Frazer's  position,  we  might  deal  first  with 
his  sociological  theory.  In  fairness  to  the  author  it  must 
be  said  that  a  painful  search  may  reveal  another  passage, 
which,  however  contradictory  to  the  theory  just  expounded, 
at  least  indicates  that  a  sound  theoretical  view  of  the  prob- 
lem is  not  beyond  the  mental  horizon  of  the  author.  "We 
may  reasonably  suppose,"  writes  Frazer,  "that  all  the  mar- 
riages which  are  now  formally  interdicted  by  the  various 
exogamous  clan  systems,  were  In  like  manner  uniformly  re- 
probated by  public  opinion  before  the  cumbrous  machinery 
of  exogamy  was  put  In  operation  against  them.  In  other 
words,  we  may  assume  that  a  moral  objection  to  such  mar- 
riages always  preceded,  and  was  the  cause  of,  their  legal 
prohibition."^  It  Is  a  far  cry  from  this  to  an  assumed  feat 
of  "some  inventive  genius"  who  instituted  a  system  "at  once 
so  complex  and  so  regular"  in  order  to  prevent  the  intermar- 
riages of  near  kin. 

Basic  forms  of  social  organization  do  not  fall  from 
heaven  ready  made,  nor  do  they  arise  full-fledged — like 
Pallas  Athena  from  the  head  of  Zeus — from  the  minds  of 
genial  savage  law  givers.  The  time  may  come  when  man 
will  learn  to  conceive  of  new  forms  of  social,  political  or 
economic  structure,  and  to  fit  them  so  well  Into  the  living 
organism  of  society  as  to  insure  their  persistence  and  smooth 


'Ibid,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  3-IO. 
'Ibid,  Vol.  I,  pp.  346-347. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       343 

working.  But  the  past  knows  no  such  examples.  Only 
those  forms  of  social  grouping  and  functioning  have  so  far 
shown  a  tendency  to  survive,  which,  if  they  were  at  all 
deliberately  introduced,  were  at  least  based  on  pre-existing 
tendencies  and  habits/  Politicians  and  social  students  well 
know  from  the  example  of  modern  democracies  how  nearly 
impossible  it  is  to  create  a  new  party  (shades  of  the  well- 
nigh  defunct  Bull  Moose  1)  unless  all  the  elements  of  such 
a  party  are  already  in  existence,  so  that  the  creation  really 
means  but  little  more  than  the  introduction  of  a  formal 
organization,  the  assuming  or  accepting  of  a  name,  and  the 
like.' 

Nor  is  this  all.  Even  if  such  a  conscious  origin  of  the 
phratries  and  classes  were  conceivable,  more  specific  reasons 
can  be  assigned  why  the  emergence  of  these  divisions  for 
the  reasons  given,  namely,  the  prevention  of  unions  between 
certain  close  relatives,  is  highly  improbable.  Surely,  if  the 
introduction  of  the  phratries  and  classes  were  prompted  by 
a  desire  to  eliminate  incestuous  unions,  those  first  taken 
care  of  would  have  been  the  unions  between  father  and 
daughter  and  mother  and  son.  Now,  it  was  shown  that 
in  the  two  moiety  system  with  maternal  descent  the  inter- 
marriage of  mother  and  son  is  effectively  barred,  but  not 
the  marriage  of  father  and  daughter,  the  two  belonging  to 


*Here  we  might  once  more  refer  to  the  introduction  by  the  Soviet  govern- 
ment of  Russia  of  the  territorial  and  professional  electoral  units  based  on 
the  village  mir  and  the  industrial  artel,  both  ancient  and  natural  institu- 
tions, which  were  already  regarded  as  the  proper  foundations  for  a  re- 
constituted Russian  society  by  the  pre-Marxian  socialistic  dreamers  of  the 
first  and  the  beginning  of  the  second  quarters  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

'It  need  not  be  implied  that  primitive  organizers,  such  as  the  Australian 
chiefs  or  "old  men,"  are  unable  to  visualize  a  social  mechanism  or  on 
occasion  to  polish  off  the  rough  edges  of  a  clumsily  working  or  imperfectly 
adjusted  social  system.  That  the  opposite  is  true  is  no  longer  a  subject  of 
doubt  to  ethnologists.  In  Australia,  for  example,  there  are  instances  where 
intermarriages  between  tribes  with  discrepant  social  systems  require  such 
deliberate  and  thoughtful  intervention  on  the  part  of  the  powers  that  be; 
and  the  situation  is  forthwith  taken  care  of  very  effectively. 

The  point  is  too  detailed  to  be  treated  here.  But  the  curious  reader  is 
referred  to  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia," 
pp.  116-132,  where  the  authors  show  with  great  clearness  that  an  inspection 
of  the  class  divisions  of  the  Mara,  Anula,  and  Binbinga  reveals  a  re- 
arrangement of  classes  to  provide  for  inter-tribal  marriages,  a  re-arrange- 
ment which  must  be  recognized  as  deliberate. 


344  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

opposite  phratries.  It  might  be  argued  that  the  tribes 
having  this  dual  and  maternal  organization  are  in  a  stage  of 
transition  to  the  further  subdivision  into  classes  in  which 
the  father-daughter  marriage  would  also  be  eliminated. 
But  this  conjecture  could  not  possibly  be  sustained,  for  a 
large  set  of  tribes  organized  on  the  maternal  two  phratry 
pattern  is  found  in  the  southeast  of  Australia,  and  about 
an  equally  large  number  of  tribes  organized  on  the  paternal 
phratry  pattern.  Clearly,  these  tribes  were  so  organized 
for  untold  generations  nor  is  there  any  indication  of  their 
incipient  transformation  into  the  four  class  pattern  of 
organization.  If  what  the  savage  law  givers  intended 
was  to  prevent  incestuous  unions,  is  it  conceivable  that  they 
should  have  started  so  effectively  and  then  stopped  half 
way,  leaving  the  road  open  to  one  of  the  two  most  objec- 
tionable unions? 

But  the  case  against  Frazer's  position  Is  even  stronger 
than  this,  for  if  it  were  asked  whether  these  incestuous 
unions — the  father-daughter  marriage  in  the  maternal  two 
phratry  tribes,  the  mother-son  marriage  in  the  paternal  two 
phratry  tribes — were  of  actual  occurrence,  the  answer 
would  be  a  categorical  no.  Like  everywhere  else  in  the 
world,  with  disappearingly  few  exceptions,  these  unions  are 
here  prohibited  by  special  regulations  ad  hoc,  nor  are  any 
instances  on  record  of  the  infraction  of  such  regulations. 
And  to  repeat,  such  unions  are  prohibited  everywhere, 
whether  the  tribe  is  modern  or  primitive,  and  if  the  latter, 
whether  it  is  organized  on  the  basis  of  phratries  or  clans 
or  of  both  or  of  neither. 

We  may  now  turn  to  Frazer's  parallel  between  science 
and  magic.  A  pregnant  hypothesis  indeed,  if  true,  for  the 
antecedents  of  science  would  thus  be  pushed  back  beyond 
the  historic  period  and  into  the  very  earliest  unconscious 
cravings  of  the  human  spirit.  There  is  a  certain  superficial 
feasibility  in  the  point,  to  the  extent  that  workings  of  the 
magic  act  are  supposed  to  be  automatic,  mechanical,  as  it 
were,   and  uniform,   if  the  act  remains  the  same.      Here, 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       345 

however,  the  parallel,  if  such  it  be,  ends.  Thus,  the  ma- 
gician's expectation  that  a  similar  act  will  evoke  identical 
results  whenever  repeated,  does  not  involve  the  conception 
of  uniformity  in  Nature,  although  this  conception  may 
readily  be  read  into  the  situation.  The  alleged  uniformi- 
ties apply  to  magical  acts.  Now  Nature  and  its  functions 
are  not  identical  with  these.  Does  uniformity  in  magical 
acts  and  their  results  imply  uniformity  in  Nature?  The 
situation  becomes  clarified  if  one  places  the  emphasis  in 
the  magical  complex  not  on  the  uniformities  involved  but 
on  the  exercise  of  power.  It  is  the  possession  of  power  by 
the  magician,  or,  to  express  it  differently,  his  command  or 
control  of  the  powers  implied  in  certain  substances  or  acts, 
which  bring  success.  The  entire  magical  performance, 
moreover,  is  in  innumerable  instances  lodged  in  the  super- 
natural level,  something  is  achieved  which  at  least  at  the 
time  and  place  cannot  be  achieved  by  ordinary  matter-of- 
fact  procedure,  such  as  is  involved  in  industry  or  in  the 
wielding  of  tools  and  weapons. 

But  even  if  we  follow  Frazer  in  considering  the  magic 
act  alone  rather  than  the  magical  universe,  a  most  funda- 
mental contrast  at  once  appears  between  the  magical  method 
and  the  method  of  science.  Scientific  procedure  is  ever 
alive  to  the  lessons  of  experience.  Thus,  in  a  sci- 
entifically controlled  invention  or  experiment,  the  re- 
sults, if  unsatisfactory,  at  once  react  upon  the  procedure 
by  means  of  which  the  results  were  attained.  In  the 
controlled  trial  and  error  situation  which  represents  one 
aspect  of  scientific  experimentation,  the  errors  stand  for 
experience,  constantly  influencing  the  trials,  until  the  errors 
become  successes.  The  same  is  true  of  the  matter-of- 
fact  procedure  of  industry,  even  the  most  primitive  indus- 
try. Here,  in  the  true  birthplace  of  science,  experience  re- 
acts constructively  upon  future  efforts,  thus  leading  to  inven- 
tion, improvement,  adjustment  to  situations.  All  this  is 
different  in  magic.  The  magical  universe  and  the  magical 
act  are,  to  an  almost  inconceivable  extent,  proof  against 


346  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

experience.  If  the  act  fails,  no  change  of  technique  results, 
for  the  failure  receives  a  magical  interpretation :  some  other 
agency,  a  more  powerful  magician,  perhaps,  prevented  the 
success  of  the  magical  act.  If  the  health  or  life  of  an 
enemy  was  the  object  sought,  his  own  superior  magical 
potency  provides  sufficient  explanation  of  the  failure  of  the 
hostile  attempt.  Thus  there  is  no  change,  no  improvement, 
no  readjustment  in  the  magical  universe.  The  perpetuum 
mobile  of  supernaturalism  is  proof  against  experience. 

This  view  of  the  magical  act  places  it  in  its  proper  rela- 
tion to  the  wider  field  of  magical  phenomena  as  well  as  to 
the  still  wider  range  of  supernaturalism  in  general,  for  the 
magic  act  is  only  a  part  of  magic.  There  is  no  breach  of 
continuity  between  the  performance  of  the  magician  and 
the  phenomena  of  magical  transformations  and  influences 
which  pervade  the  ideology  of  the  savage  as  it  stands  re- 
vealed, for  example,  in  the  mythologies  of  primitive  tribes : 
the  transformation  of  men  into  animals  and  of  animals  into 
men ;  the  travelling  to  the  sky  by  means  of  a  cord  made  of 
arrows  shot  one  into  the  other;  the  magic  properties  of 
amulets,  charms  and  talismans,  or  the  various  magical 
powers  bestowed  by  guardian  spirits,  such  as  the  cures  of 
various  diseases,  the  power  to  resuscitate  the  dead,  to  re- 
cover from  wounds;  the  strictly  limited  but  often  great 
powers  of  the  West  African  fetiches,  and  so  on  through  the 
endless  range  of  similar  phenomena.  Throughout  is  pres- 
ent the  Idea  of  power,  which,  moreover,  transcends  the 
average  limits  of  the  workaday  world.  It  is  this  notion 
of  power  which  unites  the  act  of  the  magician  with  the 
totality  of  the  magical  universe. 

In  their  acceptance  of  supernaturalism  magic  and  religion 
stand  united.  Both  belong  to  a  realm  which  transcends  the 
matter-of-fact.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  typical  magical 
and  the  typical  religious  situations  are  represented  on  their 
emotional  side  by  what  may  be  designated  as  the  religious 
thrill,  the  subjective  counterpart  of  supernaturalism.* 


^It  is  true  that  both   magic   and   religion,   in   line  with  other  cultural 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       347 

Thus  magic  and  religion  have  in  common  the  acceptance 
of  the  supernatural  level  and  their  association  with  the 
religious  thrill.  Moreover,  both  develop  a  ritualistic  tech- 
nique, with  its  frequent  corollary  of  de-emotionalization  or 
at  least  transformation  of  the  emotions  involved.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  magical  situation  may  be  contrasted  with 
the  religious  one  by  the  element  of  constraint  involved,  the 
will  or  power  of  the  magician  dominating  the  situation, 
whereas  in  the  religious  setting  the  will  of  the  devotee  is  at 
best  but  a  will  to  believe,  whereas  the  will  of  the  god  or 
other  divine  personage  becomes  the  dominant  determinant 
factor,  bringing  in  its  wake  worship,  supplication,  prayer 
and  the  like. 

From  the  above  comparison  and  juxtaposition  of  magic 
and  religion  inevitably  flows  the  attitude  to  be  taken  with 
reference  to  the  alleged  chronological  priority  of  magic, 
such  as  is  asserted  by  Frazer  and  other  authors.'  When  the 
present  and  the  historic  period  in  general  are  envisaged,  It 
is  clear  that  institutionalized  religion  dominates  the  field  of 
man's  belief  and  ritual;  whereas  magic  survives  among  the 


phenomena,  are  subject  to  the  influences  of  routine  and  convention  and  that 
the  magical  as  well  as  the  religious  rituals,  as  they  are  passed  on  from 
generation  to  generation,  often  become  mere  ritualistic  or  ceremonial  tech- 
niques: the  original  emotional  content  vanishes.  This  is  the  realm  of 
Marett's  "evaporated  emotions."  In  a  study  of  magic  or  religion  as  insti- 
tutions, this  aspect  cannot  be  sufficiently  emphasized;  but  if  the  two 
phenomena  are  envisaged  as  live  psychological  experiences,  which  in  their 
essence  .they  are  or  were,  the  supernatural  mystic  level  to  which  they  belong 
at  once  rises  into  prominence  and  with  it,  its  emotional  replica,  the  religious 
thrill. 

Other  authors  than  Frazer  have  contrasted  magic  and  religion  in  various 
ways.  It  is  claimed  by  some  that  religion  represents  the  socialized,  publicly 
accepted  creed,  while  magic  is  individual,  ostracized.  It  can  not  be  denied 
that  the  later  development  of  magic  and  religion  gives  color  to  this  theory. 
The  Black  Magic  of  the  Middle  Ages  or  even  the  harmful  magical  activi- 
ties of  the  African  magician  as  contrasted  with  the  supposedly  socially 
beneficial  activities  of  the  priest,  are  instances  in  point.  But  in  many  other 
instances,  as  for  example  in  Australia  or  Melanesia  or  in  the  Malay  Archi- 
pelago, it  is  impossible  to  draw  a  line  of  demarcation  between  magic  and 
religion  on  the  basis  of  social  sanction.  Moreover,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  even  an  ostracized  magic  is  in  a  sense  socially  sanctioned  insofar  as  its 
tenets  are  recognized  as  actual.  Even  Black  Magic  could  not  thrive  in  a 
magic-proof  society. 

'C/.  for  instance,  the  highly  interesting,  but  with  reference  to  this  problem 
wholly  unsatisfactory  articles  by  T.  H.  Preuss  on  "The  Origins  of  Religion 
and  Art,"  in  the  now  defunct  German  weekly,  The  Globus,  for  1905-1906. 


348  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

minor  byways  of  civilization  in  the  form  of  more  individual- 
ized as  well  as  more  elusive  attitudes  and  ideas.  But  one 
may  also  attempt  to  reconstruct  the  rise  of  magic  and  re- 
ligion beginning  at  some  point  in  the  remote  prehistoric 
past.  Then  the  picture  is  a  different  one.  Magic  and 
religion  are  then  seen  taking  root  in  partly  common,  partly 
disparate  ideas  and  emotions,  and  then  advancing  through 
a  series  of  further  transformations.  Intermingling  and 
coalescing  inextricably  in  the  beginning,  the  two  later  sepa- 
rate in  the  form  of  ever  more  divergent  strands,  a  more 
definitely  socialized  and  legalized  one,  the  strand  of  religion, 
and  the  other  one,  that  of  magic,  leading  a  less  pompous 
existence  in  the  dusk  of  legality  and  social  recognition. 
Also:  the  trend  of  religion,  in  one  of  its  less  definitely  in- 
stitutionalized aspects,  is  toward  greater  subjective  elabora- 
tion of  the  religious  experience,  whereas  the  course  of 
magic  becomes  divided  into  two  main  streams :  one  involv- 
ing perfect  ritualization,  a  pure  technique,  mechanical  in 
method  although  supernatural  in  intent,  the  other  embrac- 
ing disjointed  odds  and  ends  of  belief  and  attitude  usually 
covered  by  the   term   "superstition." 

WuNDT^s  Theories^ 

Wundt  approached  the  problem  of  primitive  mentality 
with  a  far  broader  and  deeper  equipment  in  scientific  method 
than  did  Spencer,  Tylor  or  Frazer.  As  a  student  of  psy- 
chology he  was  proof  against  the  allurements  of  a  facile 
mode  of  interpretation  of  primitive  thought,  of  which  these 
authors  are  so  often  guilty.    He  discarded  the  crude  ration- 


*Wundt'a  great  work  on  folk  psychology,  the  Vblkerpsychologie,  is  un- 
fortunately not  available  for  English  readers.  But  a  careful  perusal  of  his 
"Elements  of  Folk  Psychology"  will  suffice  to  bring  out  the  principal  points 
of  his  theoretical  attitude.  Those  who  naay  want  to  acquaint  themselves 
more  thoroughly  with  Wundt's  ideas  in  the  domain  of  socio-psychological 
phenomena  are  referred  to  the  somewhat  difficult  article  by  Herman  K. 
Haeberlin,  "The  Theoretical  Foundations  of  Wundt's  Folk  Psychology," 
Psychological  Revieiv,  Vol.  23,  1916.  A  brief  synthetic  presentation  of 
Wundt's  contributions  to  science  and  philosophy  will  be  found  in  my  article 
"Wilhelm  Wundt,  1832-1920,  The  Freeman,  1921.  Cf.,  also  Robert  H. 
Lewie's  discussion  of  Wundt's   autobiography,  ibid,   1921. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      349 

alism  of  Spencer  and  Tylor.  To  him  early  man  was  not 
an  intellectual  individual  facing  nature  as  a  problem  or  a 
set  of  questions  to  which  animism  or  magic  were  deemed 
to  have  provided  solutions.  Wundt  saw  clearly  that  man's 
reactions  to  the  world — and  especially  the  earliest  reactions 
— were  least  of  all  rational  or  deliberate,  rather  were  they 
spontaneous  and  emotional.  The  associationism  of  Frazer 
also  collapsed  before  Wundt's  critical  onslaught. 

Again,  Wundt  realized  that  the  psychological  foundations 
of  civilization  cannot  be  sought  in  the  isolated  individual, 
but  that  the  group  always  actively  co-operated  in  the  produc- 
tion of  attitudes  and  ideas.  With  great  erudition  and  an 
originality  that  has  often  been  under-estimated,  Wundt  ex- 
amined from  this  general  standpoint  the  phenomena  of 
language,  art,  religion  and  mythology,  social  organization 
and  law. 

Without  adhering  to  the  doctrine  of  a  separate  folk  soul 
— a  doctrine  sponsored,  for  example,  by  such  German  phil- 
ologists-philosophers as  Steinthal  and  Lazarus — ^Wundt 
insisted  that  the  co-existence  and  interrelation  of  many  in- 
dividuals with  their  experiences,  their  inter-communication 
and  their  creativeness,  were  essential  to  the  production  of 
the  basic  elements  of  civilization.  Thus,  without  laying  him- 
self open  to  the  accusation  of  over-emphasizing  the  social, 
a  common  weakness  of  the  systems  of  Durkheim  and  Levy- 
Bruhl,  Wundt  joined  the  ranks  of  most  modern  sociologists 
and  ethnologists  in  his  realization  that  whatever  may  be  the 
contributions  of  the  individual  to  society,  no  valid  interpreta- 
tion of  civilization  can  be  achieved  by  separating  the  indi- 
vidual from  his  social  and  cultural  setting. 

It  is  especially  instructive  to  find  that  Wundt  introduces 
his  discussion  of  myth  and  religion  by  a  volume  on  what  is 
in  fact  a  history  of  art,  a  many-sided  examination  of  the 
workings  of  the  human  imagination.  He  saw  clearly  that 
the  entire  domain  of  religion  and  mythology  represented  on 
its  conceptual  side  but  a  projection  into  the  external  world 
of  the  ideas  and  fantasies  of  the  mind  of  man.     Without 


350  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

reaching  the  striking  formulation  of  Freud,  Wundt  estab- 
lished the  psychological  foundation  of  what  the  originator 
of  psychoanalysis  later  called  the  "omnipotence  of  thought." 

Thus  Wundt  is  inevitably  led  to  a  non-compromisingly 
negative  attitude  toward  all  attempts  of  conceiving  primi- 
tive magic  as  a  sort  of  aboriginal  science,  after  the  fashion 
of  Frazer.  In  a  luminous  passage  Wundt  disposes  of  the 
issue  with  finality.  Thus  there  arises  a  paradoxical  situa- 
tion, he  writes:  on  the  one  hand,  science  is  extolled  as 
the  power  that  has  destroyed  mythology  (or,  in  our  termin- 
ology, supernaturalism)  ;  on  the  other,  mythology  itself 
is  conceived  as  a  primitive  science.  Now  the  destruction 
of  mythology  by  science  would  only  be  feasible  if  the  devel- 
opment of  these  two  aspects  of  culture  were  regarded  as 
radically  distinct,  whereas  the  identification  of  mythology 
with  primitive  science  would  presuppose  a  fundamental  simi- 
larity of  the  two.  The  explanation  of  this  apparent  con- 
tradiction lies  in  the  following :  the  experiences  on  the  basis 
of  which  myths  arise  coincide  with  those  which  in  time  be- 
come the  foundation  of  science,  for  in  both  cases  these  ex- 
periences consist  or  take  the  form  of  ideas  and  emotions, 
affects  and  tropisms  or  urges  which  are  characteristic  of 
the  human  psyche.  But  what  differs  are  the  processes  of 
thought  by  means  of  which  these  common  psychic  elements 
are  utilized  and  elaborated.  These  are  radically  distinct 
in  science  and  mythology.  Thus  the  mistake  of  the  ration- 
alistic theory  consists  in  that  it  substitutes  for  the  highly 
discrepant  mental  processes  of  science  and  mythology,  the 
coincidence  of  the  general  empirical  content  of  the  psyche.^ 

With  justice  Wundt  proceeds  to  contrast  the  theoretical 
Interest  of  science  with  the  pragmatic  or  practical  view- 
point of  mythology.  The  author  displays  an  equally  pene- 
trating vision  when,  In  dealing  with  what  he  calls  the 
era  of  primitive  man,  he  gives  a  general  estimate  of  primi- 
tive civilization  and  mentality.    "It  is  characteristic  of  prim- 


^"Volkerpsychologie,"  Vol.  II,  Par.  I  (Art),  p.  559.   Cf.  also  "Elements  of 
Folk  Psychology,"  pp,  93-94. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       351 

itive  culture,"  writes  Wundt,  "that  it  has  failed  to  advance 
since  immemorial  times  and  this  accounts  for  the  uniformity 
prevalent  in  widely  separated  regions  of  the  earth.  This, 
however,  does  not  at  all  imply  that  within,  the  narrow  sphere 
that  constitutes  his  world  the  intelligence  of  primitive  man 
is  inferior  to  that  of  cultural  man."^  And  again :  "Primitive 
man  merely  exercises  his  ability  in  a  more  restricted  world; 
his  horizon  is  essentially  narrower  because  of  his  content- 
ment under  these  limitations.  This,  of  course,  does  not  deny 
that  there  may  have  been  a  time  and,  indeed,  doubtless  was 
one  when  man  occupied  a  lower  intellectual  plane  and  ap- 
proximated more  nearly  the  animal  state  which  preceded 
that  of  human  beings.  This  earliest  and  lowest  level  of 
human  development,  however,  is  not  accessible  to  us."^ 

In  dealing  with  the  tools  and  weapons  of  earliest  man, 
Wundt  definitely  rejects  the  rationalism  of  early  authors 
while  laying  due  emphasis  on  accident  and  uncontrolled  ex- 
perience. In  his  attempt  to  trace  the  origin  of  the  return- 
ing boomerang^  of  the  Australians,  for  example,  Wundt 
projects  the  following  picture:  "The  word  is  probably 
familiar  to  all,  but  the  nature  of  the  weapon  is  not  so 
well  known,  especially  its  peculiarly  characteristic  form  by 
virtue  of  which,  if  it  fails  to  strike  its  object,  it  flies  back 
to  the  one  who  hurled  it.  The  boomerang,  which  possesses 
this  useful  characteristic,  is,  in  the  first  place,  a  bent  wooden 
missile,  pointed  at  both  ends.  That  this  curved  form  has 
a  greater  range  and  strikes  truer  to  aim  than  a  straight 
spear,  the  Australian,  of  course,  first  learned  from  experi- 
ence. The  boomerang,  however,  will  not  return  if  it  is 
very  symmetrically  constructed;  on  the  contrary,  it  then 
falls  to  the  ground,  where  it  remains.  Now  it  appears  that 
the  two  halves  of  this  missile  are  asymmetrical.  One  of 
the  halves  is  twisted  spirally,  so  that  the  weapon,  if  thrown 
forward  obliquely,  will,  in   accordance  with  the  laws  of 


"'Elements,  etc.,"  p.  112. 
'Ibid,  p.  113. 
^Cf.  pp.  102-103. 


352  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

ballistics,  describe  a  curve  that  returns  upon  itself.  This 
asymmetry,  likewise,  was  discovered  accidentally.  In  this 
case,  the  discovery  was  all  the  more  likely,  for  primitive 
weapons  were  never  fashioned  with  exactitude.  That  this 
asymmetry  serves  a  useful  purpose,  therefore,  was  first  re- 
vealed by  experience.  As  a  result,  however,  primitive  man 
began  to  copy  as  faithfully  as  possible  those  implements 
which  most  perfectly  exhibited  this  characteristic.  Thus, 
this  missile  is  not  a  weapon  that  required  exceptional  inven- 
tive ability,  though,  of  course,  it  demanded  certain  powers 
of  observation.  The  characteristics,  accordingly,  that  in- 
sured the  survival  of  the  boomerang  were  discovered  acci- 
dentally and  then  fixed  through  an  attentive  regard  to  those 
qualities  that  had  once  been  found  advantageous."^ 

A  similar  standpoint  appears  in  the  author's  explanation 
of  the  feathered  arrow.  Writes  Wundt:  "The  feathers 
are  usually  supposed  to  have  been  added  to  insure  the  ac- 
curate flight  of  the  arrow.  And  this  accuracy  is,  indeed,  the 
resultant  effect.  As  in  the  case  of  the  boomerang,  however, 
we  must  again  raise  the  question:  How  did  man  come  to 
foresee  this  effect,  of  whose  mechanical  conditions  he  had, 
of  course,  not  the  slightest  knowledge?  The  solution  of 
this  problem  probably  lies  in  the  fact  of  an  association  of 
the  discharged  arrow  with  a  flying  bird  that  pierces  the  air 
by  the  movement  of  its  feathers.  Thus,  in  the  arrow,  man 
copied  the  mode  of  movement  of  the  bird.  He  certainly 
did  not  copy  it,  however,  with  the  thought  that  he  was  caus- 
ing movement  in  a  mechanical  way.  We  must  bear  In  mind 
that  for  primitive  man  the  image  of  a  thing  is  in  reality  al- 
ways equivalent  to  the  thing  itself.  Just  as  he  believes  that 
his  spirit  resides  in  his  picture,  and  is,  therefore,  frequently 
seized  with  fright  when  a  painter  draws  his  likeness  and  car- 
ries it  away  with  him,  so  also  does  the  feathered  arrow  be- 
come for  him  a  bird.  In  his  opinion,  the  qualities  of  the 
bird  are  transferred  by  force  of  magic  to  the  arrow.    In  this 

^Ibid,  pp.  27-28. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       353 

case,  indeed,  the  magical  motive  Is  in  harmony  with  the 
mechanical  effect."^ 

Whether  this  particular  application  of  magical  idiosyn- 
crasy is  true  to  the  facts  or  not  is,  of  course,  impossible  to 
say,  but  Wundt's  hypothesis  indicates  without  doubt  a  very 
common  type  of  origin  of  useful  appliances.  It  may  be  noted 
in  this  connection  that  among  many  tribes  the  arrow  feath- 
ers are  not  attached  parallel  to  the  length  of  the  shaft,  but 
in  a  spiral.  The  screw-like  effect  of  this  device  imparts  to 
the  flying  arrow  a  revolving  motion,  the  result  of  which 
is  greater  accuracy  of  aim  and  a  more  dangerous  wound. 
Now  the  aboriginal  bow-man  was,  of  course,  quite  ignorant 
of  the  mechanical  principles  involved,  but  accidental  discov- 
ery must  have  readily  revealed  to  him  the  advantage  of  the 
arrow  whose  feathers  were  not  quite  parallel  to  the  shaft. 
Once  this  discovery  was  made,  the  further  evolution  of  the 
spiral  attachment  was  merely  a   matter  of  time. 

While  we  must  give  due  credit  to  Wund't  perspicacity, 
certain  reservations  are  in  place  here.  It  is  true  that  pro- 
fessional inventors  were  unknown  in  early  times,  also  that 
many  devices  bearing  evidence  of  great  ingenuity  were  in 
the  main  accidental  and  unpremeditated  discoveries.  Nev- 
ertheless, it  is  possible  to  underestimate  the  ingenuity  of 
early  man.  While  very  little  relevant  material  for  a  con- 
crete examination  of  this  topic  is  available,  the  analogy  with 
the  craftsman  and  mechanic  of  history  cannot  but  suggest 
that  his  prehistoric  colleague  must  have  derived  somewhat 
similar  stimulation  from  his  multiple  experiences  with  ma- 
terials, processes  and  situations.  Such  experiences,  as  is 
well  known,  stimulate  the  application  of  the  trial  and  error 
method  with  its  concomittant  discoveries,  inventions  and 
Improvements.  It  would  thus  be  unwise  to  ascribe  to  the 
primitive  mechanic  merely  a  passive  part  in  the  origination 
of  inventions.     Many  a  happy  thought  must  have  crossed 

V^iJ,  p.  29. 


354  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

his  mind,  nor  was  he  wholly  unfamiliar  with  the  thrill  that 
comes  from  an  idea  effective  in  action. 

Wundt's  position  in  regard  to  the  theory  of  cultural  evo- 
lution also  differs  markedly  from  those  of  his  predecessors. 
He  no  longer  believes  in  the  universal  uniformity  of  cultural 
advance,  either  in  application  to  culture  as  a  whole  or  to 
its  separate  aspects.  Wundt  often  speaks  of  certain  trends 
or  principles  of  historic  development  which  manifest  them- 
selves in  multiple  similarities,  but  he  is  not  blind  to  the  fact 
that  in  the  complexity  of  historical  incidents  these  principles 
scarcely  ever  appear  except  in  greatly  disguised  form,  and 
that  uniqueness  remains  a  characteristic  of  individual  historic 
events  or  cultural  forms. 

Wundt's  historic  perspective  is  particularly  enriched  by  his 
constant  insistence  on  the  multiplicity  of  motives  and  inter- 
pretations which  characterize  the  development  of  cultural 
forms,  and  the  constant  tendency  of  such  motives  and  in- 
terpretations to  fluctuation  and  transformation.  In  this 
connection  one  notes  with  regret  that  in  dealing  with  early 
processes,  the  so-called  first  origins,  Wundt  often  abandons 
his  own  well  tested  principles  and  returns  to  the  habit  of 
classical  anthropologists  of  accounting  for  cultural  factors 
by  singular  origins  and  motives.  Wundt's  failure  to  do 
justice  to  this  type  of  problem  may  be  illustrated  by  a  few 
examples. 

The  following  extract  illustrates  the  way  In  which  Wundt 
deals  with  the  origin  of  the  domestication  of  the  dog  as  well 
as  with  the  first  beginnings  of  art : 

"Closely  connected  with  the  real  dwelling  of  primitive 
man,  the  cave,  are  two  further  phenomena  that  date  back 
to  earliest  culture.  As  his  constant  companion,  primitive 
man  has  a  single  animal,  the  dog,  doubtless  the  earliest  of 
domestic  animals.  Of  all  domestic  animals  this  is  the  one 
that  has  remained  most  faithful  to  man  down  to  the  present 
time.  The  inhabitant  of  the  modern  city  still  keeps  a  dog 
if  he  owns  any  domestic  animal  at  all,  and  as  early  as  prim- 
itive times  the  dog  was  man's  faithful  companion.     The 


I 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       355 

origin  of  this  first  domestic  animal  remains  obscure.  The 
popular  notion  would  seem  to  be  that  man  felt  the  need  of 
such  a  companion,  and  therefore  domesticated  the  dog. 
But  if  one  calls  to  mind  the  dogs  that  run  wild  in  the 
streets  of  Constantinople,  or  the  dog's  nearest  relative,  the 
wolf,  one  can  scarcely  believe  that  men  ever  had  a  strong 
desire  to  make  friends  of  these  animals.  According  to 
another  widely  current  view,  it  was  man's  need  of  the  dog 
as  a  helper  in  the  chase  that  led  to  its  domestication.  But 
this  also  is  one  of  those  rationalistic  hypotheses  based  on 
the  presupposition  that  man  always  acts  in  accordance  with 
a  preconceived  plan,  and  thus  knew  in  advance  that  the  dog 
would  prove  a  superior  domestic  animal,  and  one  especi- 
ally adapted  to  assist  in  the  chase.  Since  the  dog  possessed 
these  characteristics  only  after  its  domestication,  they  could 
not  have  been  known  until  this  had  occurred,  and  the  hy- 
pothesis is  clearly  untenable.  How,  then,  did  the  dog  and 
man  come  together  in  the  earliest  beginnings  of  society? 
The  answer  to  this  question,  I  believe,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
cave,  the  original  place  of  shelter  from  rain  and  storm.  Not 
only  was  the  cave  a  refuge  for  man,  but  it  was  equally  so 
for  animals,  and  especially  for  the  dog.  Thus  it  brought 
its  dwellers  into  companionship.  Furthermore,  the  kindling 
of  the  fire,  once  man  had  learned  the  art,  may  have  at- 
tracted the  animal  to  its  warmth.  After  the  dog  had  thus 
become  the  companion  of  man,  it  accompanied  him  in  his 
activities,  including  that  of  the  chase.  Here,  of  course, 
the  nature  of  the  carnivorous  animal  asserted  itself;  as 
man  hunted,  so  also  did  the  animal.  The  dog's  training, 
therefore,  did  not  at  all  consist  in  being  taught  to  chase 
the  game.  It  did  this  of  itself,  as  may  be  observed  in  the 
case  of  dogs  that  are  not  specifically  hunting  dogs.  The 
training  consisted  rather  in  breaking  the  dog  of  the  habit 
of  devouring  the  captured  game.  This  was  accomplished 
only  through  a  consciously  directed  effort  on  the  part  of  man, 
an  effort  to  which  he  was  driven  by  his  own  needs.  Thus, 
it  is  the  cave  that  accounts  for  the  origin  of  the  first  domestic 


356  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

animal,  and  also,  probably,  for  the  first  attempt  at  training 
an  animal.  But  there  is  still  another  gain  for  the  beginnings 
of  culture  that  may  probably  be  attributed  to  the  cave  in 
its  capacity  of  a  permanent  habitation.  Among  primitive 
peoples,  some  of  whom  are  already  advanced  beyond  the 
level  here  in  questoin,  it  is  especially  in  caves  that  artistic 
productions  may  be  found.  These  consist  of  crude  drawings 
of  animals  and,  less  frequently,  of  men.  Among  the  Bush- 
men, such  cave  pictures  are  frequently  preserved  from  de- 
struction for  a  considerable  period  of  time.  Natural  man, 
roaming  at  will  through  the  forests,  has  neither  time  nor 
opportunity  to  exercise  his  imagination  except  upon  rela- 
tively small  objects  or  upon  the  adornment  of  his  own  body. 
But  the  semi-darkness  of  the  cave  tends,  as  do  few  other 
places,  to  stimulate  the  reproductive  imagination.  Undis- 
turbed by  external  influences,  and  with  brightnesses  and  col- 
ours enhanced  by  the  darkness,  the  memory  images  of  things 
seen  in  the  open,  particularly  those  of  the  animals  of  the 
primeval  forest,  rise  to  consciousness  and  impel  the  lonely 
and  unoccupied  inhabitant  to  project  them  upon  the  wall. 
Such  activity  is  favoured  by  the  fact,  verifiable  by  personal 
introspection,  that  memory  images  are  much  more  vivid  in 
darkness  and  semi-darkness  than  in  the  light  of  day.  Thus, 
it  was  in  the  cave,  the  first  dwelling-place  of  man,  that  the 
transition  was  made,  perhaps  for  the  first  time,  from  the 
beginnings  of  a  graphic  art,  serving  the  purposes  of  adorn- 
ment or  magic,  to  an  art  unfettered  except  by  memory.  It 
was  an  art  of  memory  in  a  twofold  sense:  it  patterned 
its  objects  after  the  memory  of  things  actually  observed,  and 
it  sought  to  preserve  to  memory  that  which  it  created."^ 

This  discussion  strikingly  reveals  Wundt's  sanity  as  well 
as  the  limitations  of  his  attitude.  The  derivation  of  the 
domestication  of  the  dog  from  natural  factors,  from  a  com- 
mon dwelling,  common  hunting  habits,  mutual  benefit  and 
a  minimum  of  deliberate  planning,  must  be  recognized  as  ad- 
mirably carried  out.    The  psychological  arguments  advanced 

^"Elements  of  Folk  Psychology,  pp.  22-24. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      357 

to  explain  the  presence  and,  in  part  at  least,  the  nature  of 
the  realistic  art  of  the  cave,  are  forceful.  But  in  both  in- 
stances Wundt  fails  to  utilize  his  own  idea  of  the  multi- 
plicity of  motives  which  he  has  elsewhere  employed  with  such 
admirable  effect.  The  dog  is  found  as  the  companion  of 
man  practically  everywhere,  including  innumerable  localities 
where  no  such  fixed  dwelling  places  as  caves  were  provided 
by  Nature.  Would  Wundt  assume,  then,  that  the  domesti- 
cation of  the  dog  has  originated  exclusively  where  man  lived 
in  caves  and  spread  by  diffusion  to  the  rest  of  mankind? 
No,  this  hypothesis  he  would  surely  reject.  But  then  other 
motives  must  be  provided  for  the  origin  of  the  institution 
compatible  with  the  habits  and  circumstances  of  caveless 
man.  The  same  principle  can  be  utilized  to  censure  his 
hypothesis  with  reference  to  primitive  realistic  art. 

Another  illustration  of  Wundt's  failure  to  escape  the 
allurements  of  monogenetic  derivations  is  his  hypothesis 
about  the  origin  of  primitive  dress  and  ornament.  It  runs 
like  this: 

"In  connection  with  the  external  culture  of  primitive  man 
we  have  already  noted  his  meagre  dress,  which  frequently 
consisted  merely  of  a  cord  of  bast  about  the  loins,  with 
leaves  suspended  from  it.  What  was  the  origin  of  this 
dress?  In  the  tropical  regions,  where  primitive  man  lives, 
it  was  surely  not  the  result  of  need  for  protection;  nor  can 
we  truthfully  ascribe  it  to  modesty,  as  is  generally  done  on 
the  ground  that  it  is  the  genital  parts  that  are  most  fre- 
quently covered.  In  estimating  the  causes,  the  questions 
of  primary  importance  are  rather  those  as  to  where  the  very 
first  traces  of  dress  appear  and  of  what  its  most  permanent 
parts  consist.  The  answer  to  the  latter  question,  however, 
is  to  be  found  not  in  the  apron  but  in  the  loin-cord,  which  is 
occasionally  girt  about  the  hips  without  any  further  attempt 
at  dress.  Obviously  this  was  not  a  means  of  protection 
against  storm  and  cold;  nor  can  modesty  be  said  to  have 
factored  in  the  development  of  this  article,  which  serves 
the  purposes  both  of  dress  and  of  adornment.    But  what  was 


358  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

its  real  meaning?  An  incident  from  the  life  of  the  Veddahs 
may  perhaps  furnish  the  answer  to  this  question.  When 
the  Veddah  enters  into  marriage,  he  binds  a  cord  about  the 
loins  of  his  prospective  wife.  Obviously  this  is  nothing  else 
than  a  form  of  the  widely  current  'cord-magic,'  which  plays 
a  not  inconsiderable  role  even  in  present-day  superstition. 
Cord-magic  aims  to  bring  about  certain  results  by  means  of 
a  firmly  fastened  cord.  This  cord  is  not  a  symbol,  but  is, 
as  all  symbols  originally  were,  a  means  of  magic.  When  a 
cord  is  fastened  about  a  diseased  part  of  the  body  and  then 
transferred  to  a  tree,  it  is  commonly  believed  that  the  sick- 
ness is  magically  transplanted  into  the  tree.  If  the  tree 
is  regarded  as  representing  an  enemy,  moreover,  this  act, 
by  a  further  association,  is  believed  to  transfer  sickness  or 
death  to  the  enemy  through  the  agency  of  the  tree.  The 
cord-magic  of  the  Veddah  is  obviously  of  a  simpler  nature 
than  this.  By  means  of  the  cord  which  he  has  himself 
fastened,  the  Veddah  endeavors  to  secure  the  faithfulness 
of  his  wife.  The  further  parts  of  primitive  dress  were  de- 
velopments of  the  loin-cord,  and  were  worn  suspended  from 
it.  Coincidentally  with  this,  the  original  means  of  adorn- 
ment make  their  appearance.  Necklaces  and  bracelets, 
which  have  remained  favourite  articles  of  feminine  adorn- 
ment even  within  our  present  culture,  and  fillets  about  the 
head  which,  among  some  of  the  peoples  of  nature,  are  like- 
wise worn  chiefly  by  the  women,  are  further  developments 
of  the  loin-cord,  transferred,  as  it  were,  to  other  parts  of 
the  body.  And,  as  the  first  clothing  was  attached  to  the 
loin-cord,  so  also  were  the  bracelet  and  fillet,  and  particu- 
larly the  necklace,  employed  to  carry  other  early  means 
of  protective  magic,  namely,  amulets.  Gradually  the  latter 
also  developed  into  articles  of  adornment,  preferably  worn, 
even  to-day,  about  the  neck."^ 

Here  once  more  the  artificiality  of  Wundt's  position  is 
apparent.  Quite  apart  from  the  feasibility  of  the  particu- 
lar interpretation  given — for  in  itself,  the  utilization  of  an 


'Elements,  etc.,"  pp.  85-86. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       359 

attractive  charm,  as  implied  by  Wundt,  is  common  enough — 
it  is  patently  absurd  to  reduce  the  origin  of  garments  and 
ornament  to  this  one  magical  source.  A  loin-cord  is  not 
worn  everywhere  nor  are  parts  of  garments  and  ornament 
always  attached  to  it  in  a  way  described  by  Wundt.  More- 
over, in  numerous  regions  climatic  conditions  necessitate 
the  wearing  of  garments  other  than  those  implied.  As 
to  ornament,  its  sources  are  of  course  multiform,  quite 
apart  from  the  adornment  of  the  human  figure,  and  if  that 
is  so,  what  is  the  justification  for  deriving  human  adornment 
from  this  one  source? 

We  have  noted  Wundt's  guarded  attitude  towards  uni- 
formitarian  evolutionism.  But  this  also  breaks  down  more 
than  once  under  the  stress  of  attractive  hypotheses.  To 
mention  only  one  instance :  Wundt  assumes  that  animal  wor- 
ship everywhere  preceded  human  worship.  Animals  were 
worshipped  as  ancestors  long  before  any  human  being  or 
anthropomorphlsed  gods  became  the  subject  of  the  same 
attitude.  The  worship  of  human  ancestors,  manism,  as 
Wundt  calls,  thus  remains  as  a  final  product  of  this  evo- 
lution, when  the  animal  cult  has  lost  its  power  while  the 
ideas  of  descent  connected  with  it  still  remain.  "The  pure 
animal  cult,"  writes  Wundt,  "can  be  recognized  by  that  the 
living  animals,  but  never  living  man  or  supernatural  beings 
possessed  of  human  qualities,  become  the  subjects  of  wor- 
ship. The  cult  of  anthropomorphic  gods,  on  the  other  hand, 
which  remains  after  the  decay  of  all  other  cult  forms  directed 
towards  the  animal,  represents  the  other  end  of  this  series 
and  between  these  two  extremes — the  pure  animal  cult  and 
the  pure  human  cult — all  the  other  stages  fit  in  as  transi- 
tional links. "^ 

So  much  for  Wundt's  occasional  lapses  into  drastic  evo- 
lutionism. But  withal  Wundt's  work  marks  a  tremendous 
advance  over  the  position  of  the  classical  English  anthro- 
pologists with  its  rationalism,  its  individualism,  and  its 
unilinear  evolutionism. 


^"Volkerpsychologie,"  1906,  Vol.  II,  Part  2,  p.  236. 


CHAPTER     XVI 

THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY  (Continued) 

Durkheim's  Theories' 

Durkheim's  contribution  to  primitive  mentality  centers  in 
a  sociological  interpretation  of  religion.  In  an  introductory 
section  to  his  latest  work  the  author  categorically  rejects 
the  theories  of  his  predecessors,  such  as  the  animistic  theory 
of  Spencer  and  Tylor  and  the  naturalistic  hypothesis  of 
Max  Miiller.  Durkheim  refuses  to  admit  that  nature  itself 
has  the  power  to  arouse  in  the  individual  the  religious  emo- 
tion. He  denies,  moreover,  that  the  idea  of  spiritual  agents 
which  stands  in  the  center  of  all  religions,  could  have  been 
derived  from  illusions,  such  as  dreams,  or  misinterpreta- 
tions of  echoes,  reflections,  shadows,  or  more  or  less  strik- 
ing states  of  the  body,  such  as  coma,  disease,  or  death.  "It 
is  inadmissable,"  reflects  Durkheim,  "that  systems  of  ideas 
like  religions,  which  have  held  so  considerable  a  place  in 
history,  and  to  which,  in  all  times,  men  have  come  to  receive 
the  energy  which  they  must  have  to  live,  should  be  made  up 
of  a  tissue  of  illusions.  To-day  we  are  beginning  to  realize 
that  law,  morals  and  even  scientific  thought  itself  were 


*Most  of  Durkheim's  sociological  theories  will  be  found  expressed  in  his 
last  book,  "Les  formes  elementaires  de  la  vie  religieuse,"  which  appeared  in 
1912.  A  translation  of  this  book  under  the  title  "The  Elementary  Forms 
of  the  Religious  Life,"  by  Joseph  Ward  Swain,  is  available.  Mr.  Swain's 
translation  is  literal,  which  robs  it  of  almost  all  the  brilliancy  of  the 
original  text,  but  it  is  accurate.  For  a  full  understanding  of  Durkheim'i 
position  it  is  desirable  to  read  at  least  his  "Les  regies  de  la  methode  socio- 
logique,"  of  which  there  is  no  English  translation.  An  exposition  of  Durk- 
heim's argument  as  advanced  in  his  book  on  religion  will  be  found  in  my 
article  on  "The  Views  of  Andrew  Lang  and  J.  G.  Frazer  and  Emile  Durk- 
heim on  Totemism"  {Anthropos,  Vol.  X-XI,  1915-1916,  pp.  961-970).  Another 
exposition  combined  with  a  critique  will  be  found  in  the  American  Anthrop- 
ologist, Vol.  XVII,  191 5,  pp.  719-735.  A  more  detailed  critique,  finally,  than 
will  be  possible  in  these  pages  is  available  in  my  article  on  "Religion  and 
Society:  A  Critique  of  Emile  Durkheim's  Theory  of  the  Origin  and  Nature 
of  Religion"  {Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology  and  Scientific  Methods, 
Vol.  XIV,  1917,  pp.  113-124). 

360 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       361 

born  of  religion,  were  for  a  long  time  confounded  with  it, 
and  have  remained  penetrated  with  its  spirit.  How  could  a 
vain  fantasy  have  been  able  to  fashion  the  human  conscious- 
ness so  strongly  and  so  durably?  Surely  it  ought  to  be  a 
principle  of  the  science  of  religions  that  religion  expresses 
nothing  which  does  not  exist  in  nature;  for  there  are  sciences 
only  of  natural  phenomena.  The  only  question  is  to  learn 
from  what  part  of  nature  these  realities  come  and  what  has 
been  able  to  make  men  represent  them  under  this  singular 
form  which  is  peculiar  to  religious  thought.'" 

Thus  Durkheim's  search  is  for  the  reality  underlying 
religion.  While  preparing  the  way  for  his  major  argument, 
Durkheim  establishes  the  proposition  that  the  fundamental 
fact  in  all  religion  is  a  division  between  the  sacred  and  the 
profane.  Religion  is  a  social,  institutional  phenomenon — 
"there  is  no  religion  without  a  church,"  says  Durkheim — 
and  wherever  there  is  religion  there  is  a  division  of  things, 
beings  and  acts  into  sacred  and  profane  ones.  The  quest  for 
the  origin  of  religion,  then,  resolves  itself  into  a  search  for 
the  sources  from  which  the  sacred  has  sprung. 

The  major  part  of  Durkheim's  book  consists  in  an  analy- 
sis of  Australian  totemism.  Here  he  finds  an  appropriate 
setting  for  the  origin  of  the  sacred  which  he  is  seeking.  His 
weighty  conclusion  is  reached  in  the  course  of  the  following 
passage : 

"The  life  of  the  Australian  societies  passes  alternately 
through  two  distinct  phases.  Sometimes  the  population  is 
broken  up  into  little  groups  who  wander  about  independ- 
ently of  one  another,  in  their  various  occupations;  each 
family  lives  by  itself,  hunting  and  fishing,  and  in  a  word, 
trying  to  procure  its  indispensable  food  by  all  the  means  in 
its  power.  Sometimes,  on  the  contrary,  the  population  con- 
centrates and  gathers  at  determined  points  for  a  length  of 
time  varying  from  several  days  to  several  months.  This 
concentration  takes  place  when  a  clan  or  a  part  of  the  tribe 
is  summoned  to  the  gathering,  and  on  this  occasion  they 


*  "Elementary  Forms  of  the  Religious  Life,"  pp.  69-70. 


362  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

celebrate  a  religious  ceremony,  or  else  hold  what  Is  called 
a  corrobborl  In  the  usual  ethnological  language. 

"These  two  phases  are  contrasted  with  each  other  In  the 
sharpest  way.  In  the  first,  economic  activity  Is  the  pre- 
ponderating one,  and  It  Is  generally  of  a  very  mediocre  In- 
tensity. Gathering  the  grains  or  herbs  that  are  necessary 
for  food,  or  hunting  and  fishing  are  not  occupations  to 
awaken  very  lively  passions.  The  dispersed  condition  In 
which  the  society  finds  itself  results  in  making  its  life  uni- 
form, languishing  and  dull.  But  when  a  corrobborl  takes 
place,  everything  changes.  Since  the  emotional  and  pas- 
sional faculties  of  the  primitive  are  only  imperfectly  placed 
under  the  control  of  his  reason  and  will,  he  easily  loses  con- 
trol of  himself.  Any  event  of  some  importance  puts  him 
quite  outside  himself.  Does  he  receive  good  news?  There 
are  at  once  transports  of  enthusiasm.  In  the  contrary  con- 
ditions, he  is  to  be  seen  running  here  and  there  like  a  mad- 
man, giving  himself  up  to  all  sorts  of  immoderate  move- 
ments, crying,  shrieking,  rolling  in  the  dust,  throwing  It  In 
every  direction,  biting  himself,  brandishing  his  arms  in  a 
furious  manner,  etc.  The  very  fact  of  the  concentration 
acts  as  an  exceptionally  powerful  stimulant.  When  they 
are  once  come  together,  a  sort  of  electricity  is  formed  by 
their  collecting  which  quickly  transports  them  to  an  extraor- 
dinary degree  of  exaltation.  Every  sentiment  expressed 
finds  a  place  without  resistance  In  all  the  minds,  which  are 
very  open  to  outside  impressions;  each  re-echoes  the  others, 
and  is  re-echoed  by  the  others.  The  initial  Impulse  thus 
proceeds,  growing  as  it  goes,  as  an  avalanche  grows  In  its 
advance.  And  as  such  active  passions  so  free  from  all  con- 
trol could  not  fall  to  burst  out,  on  every  side  one  sees  noth- 
ing but  violent  gestures,  cries,  veritable  howls,  and  deafen- 
ing noises  of  every  sort,  which  aid  In  Intensifying  still  more 
the  state  of  mind  which  they  manifest.  And  since  a  collec- 
tive sentiment  cannot  express  Itself  collectively  except  on 
the  condition  of  observing  a  certain  order  permitting  co- 
operation and  movements  in  unison,  these  gestures  and  cries 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      363 

naturally  tend  to  become  rhythmic  and  regular;  hence  come 
songs  and  dances.  But  In  taking  a  more  regular  form,  they 
lose  nothing  of  their  natural  violence;  a  regulated  tumult 
remains  tumult.  The  human  voice  is  not  sufficient  for 
the  task;  it  is  reinforced  by  means  of  artificial  processes: 
boomerangs  are  beaten  against  each  other;  bull-roarers  are 
whirled.  It  is  probable  that  these  instruments,  the  use  of 
which  is  so  general  In  the  Australian  religious  ceremonies, 
are  used  primarily  to  express  in  a  more  adequate  fashion 
the  agitation  felt.  But  while  they  express  it,  they  also 
strengthen  it.  This  effervescence  often  reaches  such  a  point 
that  It  causes  unheard-of  actions.  The  passions  released 
are  of  such  an  impetuosity  that  they  can  be  restrained  by 
nothing.  They  are  so  far  removed  from  their  ordinary  con- 
ditions of  life,  and  they  are  so  thoroughly  conscious  of  it, 
that  they  feel  that  they  must  set  themselves  outside  of  and 
above  their  ordinary  morals.  The  sexes  unite  contrarlly 
to  the  rules  governing  sexual  relations.  Men  exchange 
wives  with  each  other.  Sometimes  even  Incestuous  unions, 
which  In  normal  times  are  thought  abominable  and  are 
severely  punished,  are  now  contracted  openly  and  with 
impunity.  If  we  add  to  all  this  that  the  ceremonies  gen- 
erally take  place  at  night  In  a  darkness  pierced  here  and 
there  by  the  light  of  fires,  we  can  easily  imagine  what  effect 
such  scenes  ought  to  produce  on  the  minds  of  those  who 
participate.  They  produce  such  a  violent  super-excitation 
of  the  whole  physical  and  mental  life  that  it  cannot  be  sup- 
ported very  long :  the  actor  taking  the  principal  part  finally 
falls  exhausted  on  the  ground.'"  .  .  . 

.  .  -  "One  can  readily  conceive  how,  when  arrived  at  this 
state  of  exaltation,  a  man  does  not  recognize  himself  any 
longer.  Feeling  himself  dominated  and  carried  away  by 
some  sort  of  an  external  power  which  makes  him  think  and 
act  differently  than  In  normal  times,  he  naturally  has  the 
Impression  of  being  himself  no  longer.  It  seems  to  him 
that  he  has  become  a  new  being:  the  decorations  he  puts 

^Ibid,  pp.  214-216.  ♦ 


364  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

on  and  the  masks  that  cover  his  face  figure  materially  in 
this  interior  transformation,  and  to  a  still  greater  extent, 
they  aid  in  determining  its  nature.  And  as  at  the  same 
time  all  his  companions  feel  themselves  transformed  in  the 
same  way  and  express  this  sentiment  by  their  cries,  their 
gestures  and  their  general  attitude,  everything  is  just  as 
though  he  really  were  transported  into  a  special  world,  en- 
tirely different  from  the  one  where  he  ordinarily  lives,  and 
into  an  environment  filled  with  exceptionally  intense  forces 
that  take  hold  of  him  and  metamorphose  him.  How  could 
such  experiences  as  these,  especially  when  they  are  repeated 
every  day  for  weeks,  fail  to  leave  in  him  the  conviction  that 
there  really  exist  two  heterogeneous  and  mutually  incom- 
parable worlds?  One  is  that  where  his  daily  life  drags 
wearily  along;  but  he  cannot  penetrate  into  the  other  with- 
out at  once  entering  into  relations  with  extraordinary 
powers  that  excite  him  to  the  point  of  frenzy.  The  first  is 
the  profane  world,  the  second,  that  of  sacred  things. 

"So  it  is  in  the  midst  of  these  effervescent  social  environ- 
ments and  out  of  this  effervescence  itself  that  the  religious 
idea  seems  to  be  born.  The  theory  that  this  is  really  its 
origin  is  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  in  Australia  the  really 
religious  activity  is  almost  entirely  confined  to  the  moments 
when  these  assemblies  are  held.  To  be  sure,  there  is  no 
people  among  whom  the  great  solemnities  of  the  cult  are 
not  more  or  less  periodic;  but  in  the  more  advanced  so- 
cieties, there  is  not,  so  to  speak,  a  day  when  some  prayer 
or  offering  is  not  addressed  to  the  gods  and  some  ritual  act 
is  not  performed.  But  in  Australia,  on  the  contrary,  apart 
from  the  celebrations  of  the  clan  and  tribe,  the  time  is  nearly 
all  filled  with  lay  and  profane  occupations.  Of  course  there 
are  prohibitions  that  should  be  and  are  preserved  even  dur- 
ing these  periods  of  temporal  activity;  it  is  never  permis- 
sible to  kill  or  eat  freely  of  the  totemic  animal,  at  least  In 
those  parts  where  the  interdiction  has  retained  its  original 
vigour;  but  almost  no  positive  rites  are  then  celebrated,  and 
there  are  no  ceremonies  of  any  importance.     These  take 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      365 

place  only  in  the  midst  of  assembled  groups.  The  religious 
life  of  the  Australian  passes  through  successive  phases  of 
complete  lull  and  of  super-excitation,  and  social  life  oscil- 
lates in  the  same  rhythm.  This  puts  clearly  into  evidence 
the  bond  uniting  them  to  one  another,  but  among  the  peo- 
ples called  civilized,  the  relative  continuity  of  the  two  blurs 
their  relations.  It  might  even  be  asked  whether  the  vio- 
lence of  this  contrast  was  not  necessary  to  disengage  the 
feeling  of  sacredness  in  its  first  form.  By  concentrating 
itself  almost  entirely  in  certain  determined  moments,  the 
collective  life  has  been  able  to  attain  its  greatest  intensity 
and  efficacy,  and  consequently  to  give  men  a  more  active 
sentiment  of  the  double  existence  they  lead  and  of  the  double 
nature  in  which  they  participate."^ 

Durkheim's  book  bristles  with  attempts  to  furnish  inter- 
pretations of  various  psychological  elements  in  religion  in 
the  terms  of  social  or  group  determinants.  His  theory  of 
the  origin  of  the  idea  of  survival  and  immortality  of  the 
soul  may  be  adduced  as  an  illustration  of  his  habitual  mode 
of  procedure.  Durkheim  dwells  on  the  fact  that  in  central 
Australia  children  are  believed  to  be  reincarnations  of  an- 
cestral individuals.  From  this  he  takes  the  cue  for  his 
hypothesis.  "We  have  seen,"  writes  Durkheim,  "that  the 
souls  of  new-born  children  are  either  emanations  of  the 
ancestral  souls,  or  these  souls  themselves  reincarnated.  But 
in  order  that  they  may  either  reincarnate  themselves,  or 
periodically  give  off  new  emanations,  they  must  have  sur- 
vived their  first  holders.  So  it  seems  as  though  they  ad- 
mitted the  survival  of  the  dead  in  order  to  explain  the  birth 
of  the  living.  The  primitive  does  not  have  the  idea  of  an 
all-powerful  god  who  creates  souls  out  of  nothing.  It 
seems  to  him  that  souls  cannot  be  made  except  out  of  souls. 
So  those  who  are  born  can  only  be  new  forms  of  those  who 
have  been ;  consequently,  it  is  necessary  that  these  latter  con- 
tinue to  exist  in  order  that  others  may  be  born.  In  fine, 
the  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul  is  the  only  way  in 

^Ibid,  pp.  218-219. 


366  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

which  men  were  able  to  explain  a  fact  which  could  not  fail 
to  attract  their  attention;  this  fact  is  the  perpetuity  of  the 
life  of  the  group.  Individuals  die,  but  the  clan  survives. 
So  the  forces  which  give  it  life  must  have  the  same  per- 
petuity. Now  these  forces  are  the  souls  which  animate 
individual  bodies;  for  it  is  in  them  and  through  them  that 
the  group  is  realized.  For  this  reason,  it  is  necessary  that 
they  endure.  It  is  even  necessary  that  in  enduring,  they 
remain  always  the  same;  for,  as  the  clan  always  keeps  its 
characteristic  appearance,  the  spiritual  substance  out  of  which 
it  is  made  must  be  thought  of  as  qualitatively  invariable. 
Since  it  is  always  the  same  clan  with  the  same  totemic  prin- 
ciple, it  is  necessary  that  the  souls  be  the  same,  for  souls 
are  only  the  totemic  principle  broken  up  and  particularized. 
Thus  there  is  something  like  a  germinative  plasm,  of  a  mys- 
tic order,  which  is  transmitted  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion and  which  makes,  or  at  least  is  believed  to  make,  the 
spiritual  unity  of  the  clan  through  all  time.  And  this  belief, 
in  spite  of  its  symbolic  character,  is  not  without  a  certain 
objective  truth.  For  though  the  group  may  not  be  im- 
mortal in  the  absolute  sense  of  the  word,  still  it  is  true  that 
it  endures  longer  than  the  individuals  and  that  it  is  born  and 
incarnated  afresh  in  each  new  generation.'" 

A  very  striking  illustration  of  Durkheim's  behaviorism, 
insofar  as  attitudes  are  represented  as  growing  out  of 
actions  rather  than  the  reverse,  is  provided  by  his  theory 
of  mourning,  which  has  also  a  bearing  on  certain  aspects 
of  the  idea  of  the  soul.    He  writes: 

"When  some  one  dies,  the  family  group  to  which  he  be- 
longs feels  itself  lessened  and,  to  react  against  this  loss, 
it  assembles.  A  common  misfortune  has  the  same  effects 
as  the  approach  of  a  happy  event:  collective  sentiments  are 
renewed  which  then  lead  men  to  seek  one  another  and  to 
assemble  together.  We  have  even  seen  this  need  for  con- 
centration affirm  itself  with  a  particular  energy:  they  em- 
brace one  another,  put  their  arms  round  one  another,  and 


^Ibtd,  pp.  268-269. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      367 

press  as  close  as  possible  to  one  another.  But  the  affective 
state  in  which  the  group  then  happens  to  be  only  reflects  the 
circumstances  through  which  it  is  passing.  Not  only  do  the 
relatives,  who  are  affected  the  most  directly,  bring  their 
own  personal  sorrow  to  the  assembly,  but  the  society  exer- 
cises a  moral  pressure  over  its  members,  to  put  their  senti- 
ments in  harmony  with  the  situation.  To  allow  them  to 
remain  indifferent  to  the  blow  which  has  fallen  upon  it  and 
diminished  it,  would  be  equivalent  to  proclaiming  that  it 
does  not  hold  the  place  in  their  hearts  which  is  due  it;  it 
would  be  denying  itself.  A  family  which  allows  one  of  its 
members  to  die  without  being  wept  for  shows  by  that  very 
fact  that  it  lacks  moral  unity  and  cohesion:  it  abdicates;  it 
renounces  its  existence.  An  individual,  in  his  turn,  if  he  is 
strongly  attached  to  the  society  of  which  he  is  a  member, 
feels  that  he  is  morally  held  to  participating  in  its  sorrows 
and  joys ;  not  to  be  interested  in  them  would  be  equivalent 
to  breaking  the  bonds  uniting  him  to  the  group;  it  would 
be  renouncing  all  desire  for  it  and  contradicting  himself. 
When  the  Christian,  during  the  ceremonies  commemorating 
the  Passion,  and  the  Jew,  on  the  anniversary  of  the  fall  of 
Jerusalem,  fast  and  mortify  themselves,  it  is  not  in  giving 
way  to  a  sadness  which  they  feel  spontaneously.  Under 
these  circumstances,  the  internal  state  of  the  believer  is  out 
of  all  proportion  to  the  severe  abstinences  to  which  they 
submit  themselves.  If  he  is  sad,  it  is  primarily  because  he 
consents  to  being  sad,  and  he  consents  to  it  in  order  to 
affirm  his  faith.  The  attitude  of  the  Australian  during 
mourning  is  to  be  explained  in  the  same  way.  If  he  weeps 
and  groans,  it  is  not  merely  to  express  an  individual  chagrin; 
it  is  to  fulfil  a  duty  of  which  the  surrounding  society  does 
not  fail  to  remind  him. 

"We  have  seen  elsewhere  how  human  sentiments  are  in- 
tensified when  affirmed  collectively.  Sorrow,  like  joy,  be- 
comes exalted  and  amplified  when  leaping  from  mind  to 
mind,  and  therefore  expresses  itself  outwardly  in  the  form 
of  exuberant  and  violent  movements.     But  these  are  no 


368  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

longer  expressive  of  the  joyful  agitation  which  we  observed 
before;  they  are  shrieks  and  cries  of  pain.  Each  is  carried 
along  by  the  others;  a  veritable  panic  of  sorrow  results. 
When  pain  reaches  this  degree  of  intensity,  it  is  mixed  with 
a  sort  of  anger  and  exasperation.  One  feels  the  need  of 
breaking  something,  of  destroying  something.  He  takes 
this  out  either  upon  himself  or  others.  He  beats  himself, 
burns  himself,  wounds  himself  or  else  he  falls  upon  others  to 
beat,  burn  and  wound  them.  Thus  it  became  the  custom  to 
give  one's  self  up  to  the  veritable  orgies  of  tortures  during 
mourning.  It  seems  very  probable  that  blood-revenge  and 
head-hunting  have  their  origin  in  this.  If  every  death  is 
attributed  to  some  magic  charm,  and  for  this  reason  it  is  be- 
lieved that  the  dead  man  ought  to  be  avenged,  it  is  because 
men  must  find  a  victim  at  any  price,  upon  whom  the  collec- 
tive pain  and  anger  may  be  discharged.  Naturally  this  vic- 
tim is  sought  outside  the  group;  a  stranger  is  a  subject 
minoris  resistentiae;  as  he  is  not  protected  by  the  sentiments 
of  sympathy  inspired  by  a  relative  or  neighbor,  there  is  noth- 
ing in  him  which  subdues  and  neutralizes  the  evil  and  de- 
structive sentiments  aroused  by  the  death.  It  is  undoubtedly 
for  this  same  reason  that  women  serve  more  frequently 
than  men  as  the  passive  objects  of  the  cruellest  rites  of 
mourning;  since  they  have  a  smaller  social  value,  they  are 
more  obviously  designated  as  scapegoats. 

"We  see  that  this  explanation  of  mourning  completely 
leaves  aside  all  ideas  of  souls  or  spirits.  The  only  forces 
which  are  really  active  are  of  a  wholly  impersonal  nature: 
they  are  the  emotions  aroused  in  the  group  by  the  death  of 
one  of  its  members.  But  the  primitive  does  not  know  the 
psychical  mechanism  from  which  these  practices  result.  So 
when  he  tries  to  account  for  them,  he  is  obliged  to  forge  a 
wholly  different  explanation.  All  he  knows  is  that  he  must 
painfully  mortify  himself.  As  every  obligation  suggests  the 
notion  of  a  will  which  obliges,  he  looks  about  him  to  see 
whence  this  constraint  which  he  feels  may  come.  Now, 
there  Is  one  moral  power,  of  whose  reality  he  is  assured 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       369 

and  which  seems  designated  for  this  role:  this  is  the  soul 
which  the  death  had  liberated.  For  what  could  have  a 
greater  interest  than  it  in  the  effects  which  its  own  death 
has  on  the  living?  So  they  imagine  that  if  these  latter  in- 
flict an  unnatural  treatment  upon  themselves,  it  is  to  con- 
form to  its  exigencies.  It  was  thus  that  the  idea  of  the 
soul  must  have  intervened  at  a  later  date  into  the  mythology 
of  mourning.  But  also,  since  it  is  thus  endowed  with  in- 
human exigencies,  it  must  be  supposed  that  in  leaving  the 
body  which  it  animated,  the  soul  lays  aside  every  human 
sentiment.  Hence  the  metamorphosis  which  makes  a 
dreaded  enemy  out  of  the  relative  of  yesterday.  This  trans- 
formation is  not  the  origin  of  mourning;  it  is  rather  its  con- 
sequence. It  translates  a  change  which  has  come  over  the 
affective  state  of  the  group :  men  do  not  weep  for  the  dead 
because  they  fear  them;  they  fear  them  because  they  weep 
for  them.'" 

"But  this  change  of  the  affective  state  can  only  be  a  tem- 
porary one,  for  while  the  ceremonies  of  mourning  result 
from  it,  they  also  put  an  end  to  it.  Little  by  little,  they 
neutralize  the  very  causes  which  have  given  rise  to  them. 
The  foundation  of  mourning  is  the  impression  of  a  loss 
which  the  group  feels  when  it  loses  one  of  its  members. 
But  this  very  impression  results  in  bringing  individuals  to- 
gether, in  putting  them  into  closer  relations  with  one 
another,  in  associating  them  all  in  the  same  mental  state, 
and  therefore  in  disengaging  a  sensation  of  comfort  which 
compensates  the  original  loss.  Since  they  weep  together, 
they  hold  to  one  another  and  the  group  is  not  weakened,  in 
spite  of  the  blow  which  has  fallen  upon  it.  Of  course  they 
have  only  sad  emotions  in  common,  but  communicating  in 
sorrow  is  still  communicating,  and  every  communion  of 
mind,  in  whatever  form  it  may  be  made,  raises  the  social 
vitality.  The  exceptional  violence  of  the  manifestations 
by  which  the  common  pain  is  necessarily  and  obligatorily 


'This  is  a  curious  sociological  utilization  of  the  once  famous  James-Lange 
hypothesis  of  the  emotions. 


370  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

expressed  even  testifies  to  the  fact  that  at  this  moment,  the 
society  is  more  alive  and  active  than  ever.  In  fact,  when- 
ever the  social  sentiment  is  painfully  wounded,  it  reacts 
with  greater  force  than  ordinarily:  one  never  holds  so 
closely  to  his  family  as  when  it  has  just  suffered.  This  sur- 
plus energy  effaces  the  more  completely  the  effects  of  the 
interruption  which  was  felt  at  first,  and  thus  dissipates  the 
feeling  of  coldness  which  death  always  brings  with  it.  The 
group  feels  its  strength  gradually  returning  to  it;  it  begins 
to  hope  and  to  live  again.  Presently  one  stops  mourning, 
and  he  does  so  owing  to  the  mourning  itself.  But  as  the 
idea  formed  of  the  soul  reflects  the  moral  state  of  the  so- 
ciety, this  idea  should  change  as  this  state  changes.  When 
one  is  in  the  period  of  dejection  and  agony,  he  represents 
the  soul  with  the  traits  of  an  evil  being,  whose  sole  occupa- 
tion is  to  persecute  men.  But  when  he  feels  himself  con- 
fident and  secure  once  more,  he  must  admit  that  it  has  re- 
taken its  former  nature  and  its  former  sentiments  of  tender- 
ness and  solidarity.  Thus  we  explain  the  very  different  ways 
in  which  it  Is  conceived  at  different  moments  of  its  existence. 
"Not  only  do  the  rites  of  mourning  determine  certain  of 
the  secondary  characteristics  attributed  to  the  soul,  but  per- 
haps they  are  not  foreign  to  the  idea  that  it  survives  the 
body.  If  he  Is  to  understand  the  practices  to  which  he  sub- 
mits on  the  death  of  a  parent,  a  man  is  obliged  to  believe 
that  these  are  not  an  indifferent  matter  for  the  deceased. 
The  shedding  of  blood  which  is  practised  so  freely  during 
mourning  is  a  veritable  sacrifice  offered  to  the  dead  man. 
So  something  of  the  dead  man  must  survive,  and  as  this  is 
not  the  body,  which  is  manifestly  Immobile  and  decomposed, 
it  can  only  be  the  soul.'     Of  course  It  Is  impossible  to  say 


'It  is  interesting  to  compare  this  with  Freud's  position,  who  states  that  a 
projection  of  a  psychic  state  is  most  likely  to  occur  where  opposing  psycho- 
logical trends  make  such  a  projection  especially  desirable.  Now,  the  im- 
pression produced  on  man  by  the  phenomenon  of  death,  presents  a  favorable 
occasion  of  such  an  ambivalent  condition,  the  opposite  emotions  of  love  and 
hate,  tender  regard  and  fear,  being  present.  The  negative  emotions  involved 
become  objectified  in  the  idea  of  an  evil  spirit  or  ghost.  Freud  notes  his 
agreement  with  various  authors  in  this  particular,  insisting,  however,  that 
in  his  version  it  is  the  emotional  conflict  involved  in  the  situation  which  is 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      371 

with  any  exactness  what  part  these  considerations  have  had 
in  the  origin  of  the  idea  of  immortality.  But  it  is  probable 
that  here  the  influence  of  the  cult  is  the  same  as  it  is  else- 
where. Rites  are  more  easily  explicable  when  one  imagines 
that  they  are  addressed  to  personal  beings;  so  men  have 
been  induced  to  extend  the  influence  of  the  mythical  person- 
alities in  the  religious  life.  In  order  to  account  for  mourn- 
ing, they  have  prolonged  the  existence  of  the  soul  beyond 
the  tomb.  This  is  one  more  example  of  the  way  in  which 
rites  react  upon  beliefs."^ 

In  analyzing  Durkheim's  theory  of  the  origin  of  the 
Sacred,  it  is  important  to  keep  in  mind  the  particular  char- 
acter of  the  social  setting  which  he  utilizes  as  the  source 
from  which  the  Sacred  flows.  As  one  reads  Durkheim's  pic- 
turesque description  of  Australian  ceremonies,  he  realizes 
that  the  social  setting  with  which  the  author  deals  is  one 
usually  designated  as  crowd-psychological.  The  emo- 
tional, ideational  and  behavioristic  transformations  which 
Durkheim  describes  as  taking  place  in  the  individual  are 
the  transformations  with  which  we  are  familiar  from  studies 
of  crowd-psychology. 

A  criticism  of  this  basic  part  of  the  author's  theory  may 
be  reproduced  from  the  article  referred  to  before,  with  a 
few  minor  changes : 

"Thus,  the  conception  of  the  social,  of  society,  in  Durk- 
heim's theory  is  strangely  narrow.  Notwithstanding  the 
tremendous  importance  ascribed  to  It,  society  for  Durk- 
heim is  but  a  sublimated  crowd,  while  the  social  setting  is 
the  crowd-psychological  situation.  Society  as  a  cultural,  his- 
torical complex,  society  as  the  carrier  of  tradition,  as  the 
legislator,  judge,  as  the  standard  of  action,  as  public  opin- 
ion; society  in  all  of  these  varied  and  significant  manifesta- 
tions, which  surely  are  of  prime  concern  to  the  individual, 


responsible  for  the  creation  of  spirit,  not  the  intellectual  conflict  (as  is  the 
case  with  Durkheim). 
^Ibid,  pp.  399-403- 


372  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

does  not  figure  In  Durkheim's  theory/  All  the  marvels  of 
social  control  are  achieved  through  the  medium  of  the 
crowd-psychological  situation.  Durkheim's  theory,  then,  is 
a  crowd-psychological  one;  but  is  his  crowd-psychology 
sound?  The  author  will  have  us  believe  that  the  religious 
thrill,  the  sense  of  the  sacred,  arises  from  the  reaction  of 
the  individual  consciousness  to  social  pressure,  or  rather 
from  the  ratiocination  of  that  reaction.  The  elements  in- 
volved in  the  situation  utilized  in  the  author's  theory  are 
still  to  be  found  in  society,  hence  his  contention  is  subject 
to  verification  by  our  modern  experience.  Now,  how  does 
the  individual  react  to  social  pressure  which  overwhelms 
him  in  a  crowd-psychological  situation,  and  what  construc- 
tion does  he  place  on  his  reaction?  The  reaction  is  very 
much  as  Durkheim  has  described  it:  In  the  theater,  at  a 
political  meeting,  in  a  mob,  at  a  revival,  in  church,  in  a  panic, 
the  action  of  the  group  on  the  Individual  is  characteristic 
and  decisive.  But  how  does  he  rationalize  his  participation 
in  the  group  action  or  experience?  Not  by  contrasting  his 
daily  life  with  the  special  crowd  situation,  nor  by  represent- 
ing himself  as  actuated  upon  by  a  superior  and  external 
power — quite  on  the  contrary:  the  individual  identifies  him- 
self with  the  group,  with  the  crowd;  he  represents  himself 
as  sharing  In  the  power  which  is  of  the  crowd,  of  the  group. 
JVe  thought,  we  felt,  we  did,  is  for  him  descriptive  also  of 
his  own  part  in  the  proceedings.  Social  settings  of  this 
variety  are  so  constant,  so  common  an  experience  in  the  life 
of  man,  primitive  or  modern,  that  the  average  individual 
who  Is  but  moderately  reflective,  never  thinks  of  con- 
trasting these  experiences  with  others,  or  of  regarding 
his  crowd  or  group  self  as  transcending  the  self  of  his  daily 
routine.  On  the  contrary,  the  crowd  or  group  self  is  the 
self  par  excellence,  as  well  as  the  self  at  its  best.  Again, 
the  crowd  or  group  setting  obviously  does  not  create  the 


'It  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  the  eminent  sociologist  has  failed  to  recognize 
these  fundamental  aspects  of  society,  or  to  appraise  them  in  his  system. 
All  that  is  implied  is  that  in  Durkheim's  theory  of  the  origin  of  the  Sacred, 
society  functions  merely  as  a  crowd. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      373 

specific  psychic  state  involved.  The  joyful  ecstasy  of  a 
jubilant  crowd  remains  a  feeling  of  joy;  a  panic  of  fear  is 
fear;  the  hatred  of  a  lynching  mob  is  hatred;  the  adoration 
of  a  religious  gathering  is  adoration.  In  all  of  these  in- 
stances, and  innumerable  others,  the  specific  emotion  experi- 
enced is  not  of  crowd  derivation.  What  is  common  in  the 
above  situations  is  the  crowd  psychology:  through  a  sum- 
mation of  stimuli,  and  through  imitation,  the  emotions  be- 
come intensified;  the  higher  mental  processes,  involving 
deliberation  and  intellectual  concentration,  become  in- 
hibited; the  instinctive  and  reflexive  responses,  on  the  con- 
trary, which  have  through  past  ages  become  attuned  to  the 
particular  emotional  state  involved,  rise  into  prominence. 
What  results  then  is  an  intensified  expression  of  a  given 
emotion  in  terms  of  instinctive  and  reflexive  reactions,  re- 
actions, that  is,  which  belong  to  a  relatively  low  level  in  the 
psychic  constitution  of  man.  But  the  specific  emotion  so 
expressed  is  not  born  of  the  crowd,  and  differs  in  different 
crowd-psychological  situations.  Thus,  a  series  of  corrob- 
borees  does  not  make  an  intichiuma,  nor  do  the  secular 
dances  of  the  North  American  Indians  become  identified 
with  the  religious  dances.  A  crowd-psychological  situation 
may  intensify  or  even  transform  a  religious  thrill,  but  it  can 
not  create  one. 

"The  author's  theory,  finally,  runs  counter  to  the  verdict 
of  experience,  ancient  and  modern,  in  denying  nature  the 
power  to  impress,  shock,  and  thrill  man,  thus  engendering 
in  his  psyche  the  emotional  nucleus  of  the  religious  senti- 
ment. The  author,  moreover,  fails  to  do  justice  to  the  con- 
tribution of  the  individual  to  religious  experience.  While 
the  religious  emotion,  deeply  rooted  as  it  is  in  instinctive 
reactions  reaching  far  back  into  human  and  possibly  pre- 
human history,  is  to  a  marked  degree  amenable  to  the  trans- 
formations conditioned  by  the  crowd,  the  mob,  and  other 
more  complex  types  of  social  setting,  religious  experience 
has  also  been  enriched,  elaborated,  refined,  by  the  spir- 
itual   contributions    of    individuals.      These    were    either 


374  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

individuals  of  average  potentialities  for  religious  expe- 
rience, but  placed  in  unusual  circumstances,  or  they  be- 
longed to  that  group  of  exceptional  individuals  who,  at 
all  times  and  places,  have  shown  uncommon  proclivities  for 
the  religious  life.  The  first  category  is  exemplified  by  the 
Indian  youth  who,  at  the  dawn  of  maturity,  retires  to  a 
shanty  in  the  woods,  fasts  and  purifies  himself,  presently  to 
behold  a  vision  of  a  spiritual  animal  or  object,  from  which 
he  receives  a  supernatural  revelation  of  certain  powers 
which  henceforth  are  his  for  life.  To  the  second  category 
of  individuals  belongs  that  limited  group  of  men  from  which 
history  has  recruited  her  religious  teachers  and  reformers, 
fanatics  and  miracle  workers,  revivalists,  founders  and 
destroyers  of  religions,  prophets  and  saints.^  Now,  it  is 
emphatically  characteristic  of  both  of  these  categories  of 
men  (and  women)  that,  temporarily  or  permanently,  they 
shun  the  crowd,  they  flee  from  the  world,  they  live  in  soli- 
tude, they  are  proof  against  religious  settings  except  those 
of  their  own  making;  in  their  psychic  constitution  lie  infinite 
potentialities  of  religious  experience  and  ecstasy.  Their 
god  is  within  them.  The  lives  of  such  as  they  constitute  a 
glaring  refutation  of  Durkheim's  theory."' 

Durkheim's  theory  of  the  origin  of  the  belief  in  immor- 
tality is  a  particularly  instructive  example  of  the  author's 
tremendous  exaggeration  of  the  importance  of  social  factors 
as  contrasted  with  all  others.  That  the  perpetuity  of  the 
life  of  the  group  ("individuals  die  but  the  clan  survives") 
should  attract  the  attention  of  the  people,  as  Durkheim 
claims  it  necessarily  would,  seems  anything  but  plain. 
Where  is  the  evidence  that  the  attention  of  individuals  in 
early  communities  is  attracted  by  facts  such  as  this?  More- 
over, the  idea  of  survival  is  much  more  widespread  than  the 
belief  in  the  particular  form  of  reincarnation  characteristic 
of  central  Australia.  Thus,  the  idea  of  survival  must  have 
originated  in  other  localities  from  sources  other  than  the 


'C/.  pp.  224  sg. 

"'Religion  and  Society,  etc.",  pp.  121-124. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       375 

necessity  of  providing  a  soul  for  reincarnation,  and  if  that 
is  so,  one  is  prompted  to  pause  before  admitting  that  in 
Australia  ideas  of  reincarnation  were  chronologically  prior 
and  psychologically  causal  to  the  idea  of  survival. 

Durkheim's  analysis  of  mourning  is  both  brilliant  and 
suggestive,  but  unless  hypnotized  by  the  flow  of  the  author's 
presentation,  who  would  follow  him  in  his  assertion  that 
the  idea  of  the  soul  of  the  deceased  is  introduced  into 
the  mourning  situation  as  an  afterthought,  as  it  were,  to 
account  for  the  cruel  treatment  to  which  the  participating 
individuals  have  subjected  themselves?  "When  he  tries 
to  account  for  them"  (those  cruel  tortures),  writes  Durk- 
heim,  "he  is  obliged  to  forge  a  wholly  different  explanation." 
But  does  ''he,"  the  savage,  try  to  account  for  them?  Is 
there  any  direct  evidence  in  Australia,  or  for  that  matter 
anywhere  else,  that  attempts  are  made  to  account  for  cere- 
monial cruelties?  If  such  an  attempt  at  accounting  were 
made,  surely  it  would  have  to  be  deliberate  and  conscious. 
And  unless  the  idea  of  the  evil  soul  is  brought  by  the  natives 
into  connection  with  these  painful  phenomena,  their  at- 
tempts to  explain  them  would  continue  from  generation  to 
generation.  But  neither  of  the  two  assumptions  is  justified 
by  the  facts.  The  evil  soul  of  the  deceased  is  not  held 
responsible  for  the  mourning  with  its  wild  cruelties,  nor  are 
there  any  attempts  made  to  explain  these.  Thus  Durk- 
heim's hypothesis  contains  the  double  error  of  an  one-sided 
behaviorism  with  an  one-sided  rationalism.  First,  the  act 
Is  introduced  as  a  social  phenomenon,  while  the  individual 
attitudes  are  held  in  abeyance;  then  the  individuals  are  re- 
Introduced  as  pondering  over  the  act  and  attempting  to 
Interpret  it.  But  it  is  not  made  psychologically  plausible 
why  individual  attitudes  should  thus  be  held  in  abeyance 
while  the  act  of  the  group  is  taking  place,  nor  that  it  is 
permissible  to  assume  that  after  the  act  the  individuals 
would  ponder  and  reflect  and  reach  conclusions  and  make 
interpretations. 

In  order  to  do  full  justice  to  Durkheim's  contribution  it 


376  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

is  necessary  to  refer  to  another  daring  generalization  of  the 
great  sociologist  which  Interests  us  here  only  Insofar  as  It 
refers  to  the  sources  of  certain  Ideas  held  by  early  man. 
Throughout  Durkhelm's  volume  we  find  dispersed  certain 
hints  and  statements  referring  to  the  bearing  of  the  re- 
ligious and  social  phenomena  analyzed  by  the  author  on  the 
general  problem  of  the  origin  of  thought  categories. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  book  Durkhelm  returns  to  this  subject 
and  summarizes  briefly  his  conclusions.  His  Idea  Is  this :  the 
sources  for  some  of  the  fundamental  categories  of  thought 
must  be  looked  for  In  social  conditions  and  determinants. 
Among  these  categories  are  force,  causality,  totality,  space 
and  time.  Durkhelm  admits  that  these  concepts  are  general- 
izations derived  in  part  from  the  experiences  of  individuals 
with  natural  phenomena,  but  he  Insists  that  the  constraining 
character  of  the  categories  cannot  be  derived  from  the  same 
source.  These  fundamental  concepts  are  both  psychic  and 
impersonal,  insofar  as  their  bearing  transcends  the  indi- 
vidual. Only  collective  forces  combine  these  two  character- 
istics. Social  constraint  is  both  In  us,  thus  being  psychic,  and 
outside  of  us,  thus  being  Impersonal  and  transcending  the 
individual.  It  is  not  only  actions,  behavior,  that  are  thus 
determined  by  society,  but  the  fundamental  forms  of 
thought  Itself.  As  Durkhelm  crisply  puts  it :  "The  impera- 
tives of  thought  are  probably  only  another  side  of  the  im- 
peratives of  action.'" 

The  concepts  enumerated  are  not  merely  enforced  by 
society  but  they  are  actually  derived  from  social  forms  and 
conditions.  "The  problem  concerning  them  is  more  com- 
plex," writes  Durkhelm,  "for  they  are  social  in  another 
sense  and,  as  It  were,  in  the  second  degree.  They  not 
only  come  from  society,  but  the  things  which  they  express 
are  of  a  social  nature.  Not  only  is  It  society  which  has 
founded  them,  but  their  contents  are  the  different  aspects  of 
the  social  being:  the  category  of  class  was  at  first  indis- 
tinguishable from  the  concept  of  the  human  group;  it  is  the 

^"Elementary  Forms,"  etc.  p.  369. 


I 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      377 

rhythm  of  social  life  which  is  at  the  basis  of  the  category 
of  time ;  the  territory  occupied  by  the  society  furnished  the 
material  for  the  category  of  space ;  it  is  the  collective  force 
which  was  the  prototype  of  the  concept  of  efficient  force,  an 
essential  element  in  the  category  of  causality.  However, 
the  categories  are  not  made  to  be  applied  only  to  the  social 
realm;  they  reach  out  to  all  reality.'" 

Some  of  Durkheim's  illustrations  of  the  above  principle 
invite  a  comparison  with  Frazer's  idea  of  magic  as  a  sort 
of  primitive  substitute  for  science;  for  example,  when  the 
author  argues  that  when  the  Iroquois  conceive  of  the  life  of 
Nature  as  the  product  of  different  intensities  of  orenda  (a 
kind  of  mana)  of  things,  they  only  express  in  their  own  way 
the  modern  idea  that  the  world  is  a  system  of  forces  which 
limit  and  equilibrate  one  another.^  As  an  illustration  of 
the  sort  of  social  phenomena  from  which  the  Idea  of  class 
is  derived,  Durkhelm  refers  to  certain  classifications  of 
objects  in  nature  particularly  common  in  Australia,  as  in 
those  cases  where  animals,  plants  and  natural  objects  are 
classified  according  to  the  two  phratries  of  a  tribe.  Among 
the  American  Halda  the  gods  are  similarly  classified  accord- 
ing to  the  two  phratries.*  The  social  derivation  of  the  idea 
of  space  is  illustrated  by  an  example  from  the  ZunI,  who 
conceived  of  space  as  divided  Into  seven  directions,  to  cor- 
respond with  the  seven  quarters  of  their  Pueblo,  each  dis- 
tinguished by  its  symbolic  color. 

Collective  Ideas  such  as  underlie  the  formation  of  the 
categories  of  thought  are  characteristic  of  all  societies. 
Durkheim,  therefore,  takes  exception  to  Levy-Bruhl's  posi- 
tion, who  holds  that  collective  representations  are  specifi- 
cally characteristic  of  primitive  mentality.  Further :  if  ideas, 
even  the  most  basic  ones,  are  dependent  upon  social  condi- 
tions, it  is  not  surprising  to  find  that  each  civilization  has 


^Ibid,  p.  440. 
'Ibid,  pp.  203-204. 
*Ibid,  p.  141. 


378  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

its  own  system  of  concepts  which  find  expression  in  lan- 
guage/ 

It  is  impossible  at  this  place  to  indulge  in  an  extensive 
critique  of  these  highly  interesting  speculations.'  The  con- 
siderations presented  are,  however,  of  such  cardinal  impor- 
tance in  their  bearing  upon  epistomology  and  the  theory 
of  early  mentality  that  some  remarks  become  necessary  if 
only  to  indicate  the  general  character  of  the  objections  that 
can  be  raised  against  Durkheim's  theory. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  Durkheim  errs  in  disregarding 
or  at  least  under-estimating  the  extent  to  which  the  experi- 
ence of  individuals  with  the  objective  phenomena  of  nature, 
is  capable  of  engendering  concepts.  It  is  true  that  primitive 
philosophy  pays  little  heed  to  the  vast  if  often  inaccurate 
information  accumulated  by  man  about  the  forms,  prop- 
erties and  functions  of  objects  and  creatures  amongst  which 
he  lives,  moves  and  has  his  being.  There  is,  however,  in- 
ferential evidence  to  the  effect  that  these  aspects  of  experi- 
ence do  not  by  any  means  fall  upon  non-responsive  senses  or 
inert  minds.  The  economic  pursuits  and  industries  of  early 
man,  his  methods  of  hunting  and  fishing;  his  traps,  snares 
and  hooks;  the  varying  techniques  of  making  pots  or  of 
weaving  baskets ;  the  elaborate  manipulations  by  means  of 


I 


^Ibid,  p.  435.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  this  section  of  Durkheim's  work 
with  what  Teggart  says  in  "The  Processes  of  History"  about  the  "idea 
systems"  of  different  civilizations  (see  particularly  pp.  106-123). 

'Durkheim  proposed  to  elaborate  these  fragmentary  ideas  on  the  socio- 
logical foundation  of  the  basic  categories  of  thought  into  a  separate  volume. 
But  at  the  time  of  his  death  these  ideas  had  not  advanced  beyond  the  stage 
in  which  they  appear  in  the  "Elementary  Forms  of  the  Religious  Life." 

Moreover,  in  justice  to  the  author,  it  must  be  said  that  he  does  not  regard 
his  speculations  as  final,  or  as  accounting  in  themselves  for  the  concepts  in 
question.  In  connection  with  his  theory  of  the  origin  of  the  concept  of 
causality,  for  example,  he  states:  "It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind,  moreover,  that 
we  have  never  dreamed  of  offering  the  preceding  observations  as  a  complete 
theory  of  the  concept  of  causality.  The  question  is  too  complex  to  be  re- 
solved thus.  The  principle  of  causality  has  been  understood  differently 
in  different  times  and  places;  in  a  single  society,  it  varies  with  the  social 
environment  and  the  kingdoms  of  nature  to  which  it  is  applied.  So  it  would 
be  impossible  to  determine  with  sufficient  precision  the  causes  and  conditions 
upon  which  it  depends,  after  a  consideration  of  only  one  of  the  forms  which 
it  has  presented  during  the  course  of  history.  The  views  which  we  have  set 
forth  should  be  regarded  as  mere  indications,  which  must  be  controlled  and 
completed."   (p.  369.) 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      379 

which  hide  is  tanned  or  bark  reduced  to  a  consistency  which 
may  be  utilized  as  clothing;  the  handling  of  animal  and 
vegetable  tissues  in  connection  with  the  preparation  of  food 
as  well  as  for  medicinal  uses;  all  of  these  and  innumerable 
other  similar  processes  present,  amongst  errors  and  mis- 
conceptions, abundant  evidence  of  concrete  and  often  accu- 
rate observation,  of  the  utilization  of  such  observation  for 
the  purpose  of  mechanical  adjustment  and  technical  adept- 
ness,  and  of  the  improvement  through  invention  of  the  form 
and  function  of  articles  of  use.  All  of  these  are  mental 
accomplishments  which  imply  classification,  at  least  incipient 
generalization,  learning  from  experience,  and  technical 
progress,  however  slow,  through  the  method  of  trial  and 
error.  The  mental  process  involved  must  in  at  least  some 
of  the  above  instances  be  conscious  and  deliberate.  On  the 
whole,  however,  this  entire  set  of  intellectual  processes  is 
strangely  submerged,  almost  automatic,  as  it  were,  and  con- 
tributes but  little  to  the  world  view  of  early  man.  Why 
that  should  be  so,  why  the  valuable  insight  reached  at  the 
cost  of  much  effort,  danger  and  trying  experience  should 
play  so  small  a  part  in  the  deliberate  thought  of  early  man 
is  a  question  we  shall  attempt  to  answer,  at  least  in  part, 
in  the  next  chapter.^ 

Nevertheless,  the  part  played  by  these  generally  uncon- 
scious processes  in  the  discipline  of  the  mind  must  have  been 
tremendous.  The  antecedents  of  science,  which  from  this 
angle  is  but  systematized  and  sublimated  common  sense,  are 
certainly  to  be  looked  for  in  this  level  of  early  experience. 
The  categories  of  time  and  space,  of  force  and  causality, 
are  all  implied  in  matter-of-fact  experience  and  its  intel- 
lectual counterpart.  When  in  the  course  of  time  the  gen- 
eralizations derived  from  socio-ceremonial  and  religious 
experience  came  into  close  quarters  with  the  ideas  derived 
from  the  realm  of  matter-of-fact,  the  above  mental  cate- 
gories were  represented  not  alone  in  the  former  but  in  the 
latter  as  well. 


'See  pp.  406-407  and  410  sg. 


38o  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

Nor  Is  this  all.  Durkhelm  is  no  doubt  right  in  pointing 
out  that  in  different  societies  and  even  within  one  society, 
differences  are  discernible  between  the  more  precise  con- 
notations given  to  the  ideas  of  causality,  force  and  the  like. 
Nevertheless,  all  the  concepts  involved  are  basic  and,  differ- 
ences apart,  contain  a  sufficient  number  of  common  char- 
acters in  all  societies  and  among  all  men.  That  this  should 
be  so  would  be  surprising  and  unaccountable  if  these  cate- 
gories of  thought  were  derived  from  the  varying  socio- 
ceremonial  and  religious  conditions  which  are  encountered 
in  different  communities.  By  contrast  with  this,  the  matter- 
of-fact  experience  is  everywhere  essentially  the  same  and  is 
thus  much  better  fitted  to  lay  the  common  foundation  for 
the  fundamental  elements  of  thought. 

In  confirmation  of  the  thesis  here  maintained,  an  inter- 
esting study  could  be  made  of  the  grammars  of  primitive 
languages.  It  would  then  be  found  that  in  the  recorded 
grammars  of  American  Indian  languages,  for  example,  there 
is  no  evidence  in  the  categories  involved  of  either  social 
structure  or  function  or  of  supernaturalism.  The  catego- 
ries encountered  are  those  of  singularity  and  plurality,  of 
time  and  localization,  of  conditionality,  inception  and  con- 
clusion, of  instrumentality,  of  form,  of  sex,  of  number,  and 
the  like.  All  these  categories  imply  the  world  of  matter- 
of-fact  experience.  It  will  also  be  seen  that  for  all  the 
evidence  contained  in  the  grammatical  categories,  these 
Indian  communities  might  have  socio-ceremonial  and  re- 
ligious structures  and  ideas  wholly  different  from  those 
they  actually  display,  for  their  effect  on  the  fundamental 
categories  of  unconscious  thought  as  expressed  in  gram- 
matical structure,  is  nil. 


Ljevy-Bruhl's  Theories 

One  of  the  most  notable  contributions  to  the  theory  of 
primitive  thought  made  in  recent  years  is  that  of  Levy- 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      381 

Bruhl  in  his  book  on  the  mental  functions  of  primitive  man/ 
Professor  Levy-Bruhl  represents  the  right  wing,  as  it 
were,  of  the  Durkheim  school,  but  as  will  be  presently  seen, 
his  own  contribution  is  quite  distinct.  Frazer's  associa- 
tionism  and  the  rationalistic  approach  of  Spencerian  and 
Tylorian  animism  do  not  impress  the  French  philosopher. 
These  theories,  he  argues,  try  to  infuse  a  logical  note  into 
the  primitive  world  view.  They  accept  the  postulate  that 
the  mind  of  early  man  operates  as  rationally  in  the  elabora- 
tion and  generalization  of  its  experiences  as  does  the 
modern  mind.  But  this,  claims  Levy-Bruhl,  is  not  the  case. 
With  Durkheim,  he  insists  that  the  phenomena  which  we 
encounter  in  studying  primitive  society  are  collective  phe- 
nomena. Ceremonies,  myths,  rules  of  behavior,  language, 
religion — all  of  these  represent  collective  modes  of  action 
and  reaction  and  they  must  be  the  expressions  of  a  collec- 
tive mentality.  Now,  different  societies  reveal  great  differ- 
ences in  the  external  elements  of  their  civilizations.  These 
elements  are  the  moulders  of  the  mentality  of  the  several 
peoples,  therefore  the  mentalities  must  be  different.  Thus 
the  study  of  the  primitive  mind  resolves  itself  Into  one  of 
local  types  of  mentality. 

Having  reached  this  stage  in  his  reasoning,  the  investi- 
gator finds  himself  face  to  face  with  wellnigh  insurmount- 
able difficulties.  The  way  to  a  study  of  such  local  types  of 
mentality  is  not  by  any  means  clear ;  the  preliminary  concrete 
investigations  are  lacking.  Nevertheless,  it  Is  possible  by 
way  of  a  preliminary  survey  to  characterize  these  divergent 
types  of  mentality  at  least  insofar  as  they  may  contain 
certain  common  elements  which  differentiate  them  from  the 
"idea  systems"  of  modern  man.^ 


*  "Les  fonctions  mentales  des  societes  inferieures,"  Paris,  1912.  A  German 
translation  of  the  work  has  recently  appeared  and  an  English  one  is  in 
preparation.  An  abstract  of  the  contents  will  be  found  in  my  review  of 
Levy-Bruhl's  book  in  The  American  Anthropologist  for  1911. 

*The  term  "idea  systems"  may  be  fittingly  used  here  to  suggest  the  re- 
semblance between  Levy-Bruhl's  conception  and  the  corresponding  ideas  of 
Teggart,  to  which  reference  has  been  made  before  in  connection  with  a 
similar  thought  in  Durkheim's  work. 


382  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

The  first  point,  then,  to  be  noted  in  connection  with  these 
collective  ideas  is  that  they  are  not  the  product  of  the 
minds  of  individuals.  On  the  contrary,  with  reference  to  in- 
dividual mental  processes,  the  collective  ones  must  be  re- 
garded as  pre-existing.  They  are  there  when  the  individual 
appears  to  receive  them.  Irresistibly  they  force  themselves 
upon  the  individual  mind,  and  they  remain  when  the  indi- 
vidual passes  away. 

The  distinctive  peculiarity  of  the  collective  ideas  is  that 
they  are  pre-logical  or  a-logical,  meaning  by  this  not  that 
they  necessarily  contradict  logic,  but  that  logical  processes 
are  frequently  and  even  typically  disregarded  in  their  forma- 
tion. Thus,  in  the  magical  and  animistic  universe  the  past 
may  also  be  the  present,  a  person  may  be  in  one  place  and 
at  the  same  time  in  another,  or  in  a  dream.  A  man,  or 
animal,  or  thing,  is  not  only  similar  to  but  is  identical  with 
its  image  or  reflection  or  name.  A  Bororo  (a  South 
American  tribe)  is  also  an  arard  (a  kind  of  cuckatoo  or 
parrot),  a  Central  Australian  bushman  is  also  his  churinga 
or  his  reincarnated  half  human,  half  animal  ancestor. 

The  comparison  of  objects  and  beings  from  the  stand- 
point of  their  objective  characteristics  is  outside  the  interest 
of  this  collective  mentality.  Its  attention  is  centered  on 
those  variagated  bonds  which  tie  objects,  beasts,  men  and 
actions  into  closely  knit  groups  that  have  nothing  to  do  with 
objective  form  and  substance  and  are  based  solely  on  cere- 
monial, magical  or  other  supernatural  connections.  The 
principle  on  the  basis  of  which  these  connections  are  estab- 
lished, resulting  in  a  rapport  between  the  things  and  actions 
within  each  cycle  of  such  mystic  relations,  Levy-Bruhl  desig- 
nates as  the  principle  of  participation.  The  things,  beings, 
persons,  tied  together  by  a  mystic  rapport  into  a  common 
cycle  of  participation  are  to  that  extent  one,  and  this  one- 
ness, this  Identity  based  on  supernaturallstic  connections,  de- 
termines all  the  relations  of  such  things  and  beings. 

Nor  is  it  correct  to  assert,  claims  Levy-Bruhl,  that  the 
magical  connections  between  things  are  established  through 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       383 

the  operation  of  the  law  of  association.  In  the  collective 
mentality  the  "associations"  are  given  as  primary  factors, 
and  what  the  student  observes  is  a  gradual  dissociation  of 
such  originally  unified  elements  which  takes  place  in  the 
course  of  history.^ 

In  this  connection  Levy-Bruhl's  attention  is  directed 
toward  those  strange  customs  described  so  interestingly  by 
Van  Gennep  in  his  book,  "Les  rites  de  passage."  Primitive 
custom  bristles  with  these  rites  of  passage :  initiation  cere- 
monies which  carry  the  boy  or  girl  through  different  phases 
of  ceremonial  participation ;  the  rites  which  usher  the  child 
into  the  membership  of  the  tribe,  or  those  that  accompany 
the  adoption  of  a  new  member  into  the  clan;  rites  which 
attest  the  passage  of  an  individual  to  the  rank  of  chieftaincy 
or  kingship;  rites  that  usher  the  bride  into  matrimony; 
those  that  mark  the  inception  of  a  hunting  period  or  the 
return  of  a  voyage;  and  then,  those  final  rites  which  the  soul 
or  spiritual  residue  of  a  man  must  leave  behind  before  it  is 
permitted  to  break  off  relations  with  its  earthly  associates. 

In  particular,  Levy-Bruhl  directs  attention  to  what  he 
designates  as  the  cycle  of  life  and  death,  a  series  of  cere- 
monially sanctioned  periods  through  which  an  individual 
is  made  to  pass  among  different  tribes  of  the  Melanesian 
Archipelago.  When  a  child  is  born,  its  social  worth  is  next 
to  zero;  whence  it  may  be  readily  eliminated,  at  least 
among  some  tribes.  Only  after  the  ceremonial  and 
public  imposition  of  a  name  does  the  tribal  participa- 
tion of  the  individual  begin.  In  the  course  of  his  life  he 
passes  through  a  series  of  ritualistic  periods,  each  intro- 
ducing him  to  an  ever  widening  circle  of  relations,  func- 
tions, rights  and  restrictions.  Then  he  dies.  But  the 
socio-ceremonial  participation  continues  even  after  the  first 
burial,   and  only  after  the   second  burial  has  been  gone 


'It  will  be  noted  that  in  this  point  Levy-Bruhl  endorses  by  implication 
the  idea  of  Wundt,  whose  concept  of  "mythological  apperception"  corre- 
sponds strictly  to  Levy-Bruhl's  original  unity  of  these  supernatural  intui- 
tions, as  when  the  lightning  is  directly  perceived  as  a  snake  by  the  primitive 
mind. 


384  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

through  are  all  bonds  between  the  dead  and  the  living 
broken,  and  then  the  break  in  participation  may  be  only 
temporary,  for  the  departed  spirit  may  be  reborn  again 
in  the  body  of  a  child,  to  start  after  the  first  public  name 
giving  upon  its  second  cycle  of  socio-ceremonial  participa- 
tion. 

Certain  aspects  of  this  cycle  of  participation  illustrate, 
in  the  author's  opinion,  the  disregard  of  the  logical  prin- 
ciple of  contradiction,  for  the  individual  who  is  physically 
dead  is  yet  socio-ceremonially  alive,  until  the  second  burial. 
Thus  he  is  both  dead  and  alive;  whereas  the  child,  from 
birth  to  the  ceremonial  name  giving,  is  physically  alive  but 
socio-ceremonially  dead;  thus  it  is  both  alive  and  dead. 

Interesting  comments  on  Levy-Bruhl's  cycle  of  life  and 
death  are  made  by  Rivers  in  his  article  on  "The  Primitive 
Conception  of  Death.'"  In  the  course  of  his  own  investi- 
gations in  Melanesia,  Rivers  found  ample  occasion  to  verify 
Levy-Bruhl's  conception  and  to  emphatically  endorse  it, 
without  however,  following  all  of  Levy-Bruhl's  conclusions. 
During  the  early  days  of  his  acquaintance  with  the  Melane- 
sians,  Rivers  learned  to  associate  the  term  mate  with 
"dead"  and  toa  with  "alive"  or  "living."  Before  long, 
however.  Rivers  discovered  that  the  connotations  he  had 
originally  ascribed  to  these  terms  were  not  quite  exact. 
In  illustration  he  cites  an  instance  recorded  by  a  missionary. 
The  latter  relates  how  on  one  occasion  he  witnessed  what 
he  later  discovered  to  be  a  burial  ceremony.  In  the  course 
of  the  preliminary  procession  his  attention  was  drawn  to 
an  old  woman  who  acted  with  striking  vivacity.  Pres- 
ently, however,  he  became  aware  of  the  real  purport  of 
the  ceremony  and  also  realized,  to  his  amazement,  that 
the  woman  in  question  was  the  one  to  be  buried.  She 
was  mate,  that  is  dead,  for  all  socio-ceremonial  purposes, 
and  as  there  is  not  much  use  in  such  persons,  if  they  are 
not  actually  dead,  they  "ought  to  be,"  as  Rivers  puts  it. 
Hence,  with  irreproachable  if  somewhat  ruthless  logic,  the 


^The  Hibhert  Journal,  January,  1913, 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       385 

final  rites  are  performed  and  the  burial  takes  place,  not- 
withstanding the  protests  and  groans  of  the  mate,  for  not 
all  take  their  fate  as  cheerfully  as  the  old  lady  in  question. 

So  far  Rivers  is  at  one  with  Levy-Bruhl,  but  he  objects 
to  the  interpretation.  No  contradiction  is  involved,  he 
claims,  for  the  individual  is  not  really  dead  and  alive  at  the 
same  time.  For  the  natives  he  is  dead,  mate.  The  contra- 
diction appears  only  if  we  combine  our  own  attitude  with 
that  of  the  natives.  But  this,  of  course,  we  may  not  do. 
Rivers'  own  generalization  is  to  the  effect  that  the  concept 
of  death  among  these  people  is  radically  distinct  from  our 
own.  "I  must  be  content,"  concludes  Rivers,  "to  have 
indicated  the  possibility  that  to  the  primitive  mind  death  is 
not  the  unique  and  catastrophic  event  it  seems  to  us,  but 
merely  a  condition  of  passing  from  one  existence  to  an- 
other, forming  but  one  of  a  number  of  transitions,  which 
began  perhaps  before  his  birth,  and  stand  out  as  the  chief 
memories  of  his  life." 

Now  it  seems  that  Rivers  is  right  in  his  censure  of  Levy- 
Bruhl's  interpretation.  Our  psychological  estimate  of  prim- 
itive ideas  should  not  be  marred  by  the  infusion  of  our  own. 
But  Rivers'  own  generalization  seems  equally  erroneous, 
and  in  the  form  which  it  takes  in  the  above  quotation  it 
involves  a  decided  misrepresentation  of  the  primitive  atti- 
tude toward  death.  The  unnamed  child  may  be  for  the 
time  being  mate,  dead;  the  dead  man,  between  the  first  and 
the  second  burial,  may  be  toa,  alive ;  but  these  classifications 
are  not  applicable  to  all  conditions.  The  unnamed  child, 
for  instance,  may  be  maliciously  killed,  the  taking  of  its 
life  falling  under  the  concept  of  murder;  but  the  ghost  of 
the  dead  man,  between  the  first  and  the  second  burial,  can 
not  be  killed.  Thus  the  concept  of  murder,  of  the  unjusti- 
fiable taking  of  a  life,  is  adjusted  to  the  physical  span  of 
existence,  in  conformity  with  our  own  ideas  and  the  objec- 
tive facts  of  the  case.  The  theoretical  inference  is  this: 
ideas  such  as  mate  and  toa — and  these  are  merely  samples 
of  a  multiplicity  of  primitive  notions  often  differing  from 


386  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

our  own — must  be  appraised  as  operative  within  a  partic- 
ular cycle  of  participation,  in  this  case  the  socio-ceremonial 
cycle.  Outside  of  this  there  may  be  other  ideas  perhaps 
conflicting  with  these  or  partly  overlapping  them,  which 
belong  to  another  cycle  of  participation,  as  is  the  case  with 
the  idea  of  murder. 

That  from  a  logical  standpoint  there  may  be  contradic- 
tion between  the  ideas  entertained  by  the  same  people  or 
individuals  is  true  enough,  and  this  brings  us  back  to  Levy- 
Bruhl's  position.  Are  such  contradictions  and  the  non- 
objectivity  of  many  of  the  underlying  ideas,  distinctive  of 
primitive  mentality  as  contrasted  with  our  own,  and  is  prim- 
itive mentality  throughout  characterized  by  the  presence 
of  such  ideas? 

Further  reflection  will  show  that  the  answer  to  both 
questions  must  be  a  negative  one.  Modern  mentality  is  not 
characterized  by  the  exclusive  dominance  of  logic,  when  con- 
strasted  with  primitive  mentality,  nor  is  the  latter  through- 
out a-loglcal. 

What  is  the  place  of  logical  thought  in  modern  society? 
It  applies,  we  are  told,  in  the  solution  of  problems,  in  sci- 
ence, philosophy,  mathematics,  and  we  might  add  in  ap- 
plied science,  and  finally  In  that  homely  but  highly  useful 
form  of  thought  known  as  common  sense.  In  the  case  of 
this  latter  faculty,  however,  good  psychology  is  often  more 
conspicuous  than  good  logic.  In  fact,  It  often  Is  good  psy- 
chology because  it  Is  poor  logic.  The  conclusion  is  illogical, 
the  reaction  Irrational,  but  this  is  the  way  people  conclude 
and  react  nevertheless — so  common  sense  with  its  psycho- 
logical Insight  tells  us. 

Now  this  is  significant,  for  a  little  further  thought  along 
the  same  line  does  not  fail  to  disclose  the  fact — dishearten- 
ing though  it  may  seem  to  some — that  logical  thought  plays 
but  a  strictly  limited  part  in  the  totality  of  mental  processes 
in  our  own  society.  And  the  closer  we  come  to  those  levels 
of  life  which  are  thickly  padded  with  emotion,  the  less  con- 
spicuously does  logic  figure  In  the  thought  process  referring 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       387 

to  such  levels.  Tradition,  family  associations,  educational 
setting,  class  consciousness,  national  sentiment,  racial  preju- 
dice, religious  dogma,  the  violent  shoclc  of  personal  experi- 
ence, the  suggestion  of  propaganda — whether  through 
books,  lectures,  journals,  newspapers  or  advertisements — 
these  are  the  dominant  influences  which  control  our  thought 
and  reactions  in  matters  economic,  social,  political,  moral, 
religious. 

But  we  must  go  even  further.  Logic  without  question  is 
the  ideal  and  model  of  scientific  thought.  The  demonstra- 
tions of  the  theorems  in  Euclid  are  perfect  specimens  of 
logical  coherence  and  finality,  but  these  demonstrations  do 
not  represent  the  thought  process  by  means  of  which  the 
theorems  were  reached.  What  they  really  represent  are 
artificially  simplified  and  condensed  verifications  of  such 
thought  processes. 

The  most  logical  thinker  does  not  for  any  length  of  time 
think  in  logically  connected  propositions.  The  logically 
coherent  thought  may  be  the  final  outcome  of  his  mental 
process  but  it  is  not  the  process.' 

Pre-logical  mentality,  then,  is  not  foreign  to  modern  so- 
ciety. Our  minds  are  also  driven  by  collective  thought. 
As  to  the  principle  of  contradiction,  it  may  represent  an 
impregnable  stronghold  of  abstract  logic,  but  not  of  psy- 
chology. For  in  the  psyche  of  man  contradictory  modes  of 
thought,  of  attitude,  of  behavior,  are  as  common  today  as 
they  were  yesterday  or  the  day  before.  In  fact,  the  very 
concept  of  contradiction  is  applicable  to  these  phychic  mani- 


kin illustration,  a  personal  experience:  a  group  of  men  and  women,  all 
■with  professional  training,  were  on  one  occasion  gathered  about  an  eminent 
scientist  and  thinker  who  contributed  the  intellectual  treat  of  the  occasion 
by  discussing  the  topic  "How  Do  I  Think?"  The  scientist  presented  at 
some  length  the  scientific  principles  which  guided  his  thought.  When  he 
had  finished,  one  of  the  men  present  asked  this  question:  "Now,  Professor 
X,  had  an  Indian  chief  given  you  this  answer  you  would  have  told  him, 
'Well,  my  dear  man,  all  this  is  very  nice,  but  now  tell  me  how  you  think.' 
We  are  all  familiar  with  your  scientific  principles.  For  years  they  have 
been  our  inspiration  and  despair.  What  we  wanted  to  hear  about  are  your 
submerged  hypotheses,  your  errors,  your  unpublished  intuitions!"  But  the 
over-rationalized   mind   of  the   professor  was   unable  to   produce  these. 


388  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

festations  only  when  they  are  rationalized.  In  actual  ex- 
perience, however,  they  are  not  rationalized  but  lived. 

And  again,  is  the  mind  of  early  man  wholly  submerged 
by  pre-logical,  irrational,  collective  ideas  and  attitudes? 
All  who  have  come  in  contact  with  him  know  that  this  is  by 
no  means  the  case.  Thus  Durkheim  speaks  of  the  profane 
periods  in  the  life  of  the  Australian  which  contrast  so  strik- 
ingly with  the  periodical  recurrence  of  sacred  frenzy.  Now, 
the  profane  period  in  primitive  Australia  as  in  modern 
society,  is  the  abode  of  common  sense,  of  reason,  of  logic. 
Durkheim  calls  this  level  in  the  Australian's  experience 
grey  and  drab.  That  it  is;  and  so  is  logic  and  reason.  In 
his  multitudinous  industrial  activities — crude  though  they 
may  be — the  Australian  shows  common  sense  in  abundance. 
Even  though  he  may  not  count  further  than  five,  he  can 
put  two  and  two  together  very  effectively.  Nor  does  his 
wisdom  extend  only  to  the  domain  of  material  things,  for 
many  are  the  evidences  of  his  shrewdness  in  human  con- 
tact, and  shrewdness  is  logic  applied  to  psychology.  The 
medicine-man's  art  of  curing  or  inducing  disease  is  not  merely 
evidence  of  black  magic  but  also  of  black  logic,  the  logic 
which  enables  a  man  to  hold  his  own  or  more  in  dealing 
with  another  man,  the  same  black  logic  which  is  one  of 
the  cornerstones  of  modern  business  methods. 

Spencer,  without  question,  goes  too  far  when  he  claims 
that  granting  the  savage  his  premises,  his  conclusions  are 
the  most  rational  that  could  be  drawn.  That  they  often  are 
not,  nor  are  ours,  but  many  of  his  conclusions  are  rational, 
and  the  less  chance  there  is  for  his  magic-suffused  psychology 
to  intercept  the  processes  of  reason,  the  more  likely  are  they 
to  be  rational.  That  is  why  the  semi-automatic  and  often 
unconscious  mental  processes  involved  in  industry  and  eco- 
nomic pursuits,  give  such  frequent  evidence  of  a  bedrock  of 
reason  and  common  sense  below  the  stream  of  collectively 
driven  irrationality. 

Levy-Bruhl  deserves  great  credit  for  bringing  out  with 
startling  incisiveness   the   importance   of   the   principle   of 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       389 

participation  and  of  collectively  driven  thought  in  primi- 
tive mentality,  but  when  he  makes  of  these  the  differentia 
of  primitive  man-psychological,  his  vision  is  at  fault.  There 
is  a  dose  of  logic  to  several  of  irrationality  in  the  make-up 
of  early  man;  so  there  is  in  that  of  modern  man.  The  func- 
tions of  logic  and  of  pre-logical  mentality,  their  range  and 
the  depth  of  their  reach,  are  not  the  same  in  the  two  in- 
stances. But  that  is  another  question.  Had  Levy-Bruhl 
compared  logic  and  its  functions  in  modern  man  and  in  his 
early  precursor,  as  well  as  collective  mentality  and  its  func- 
tions in  the  same  two  settings,  his  conclusions  would  have 
been  different.  To  this  aspect  of  the  problem  we  may  have 
occasion  to  return  once  more. 

Freud's  Theories* 

Psychoanalysis  had  its  beginning  as  a  new  technique  in 
the  clinical  treatment  of  certain  nervous  disorders.  It 
arose  out  of  observations  made  by  Freud  on  patients  sub- 
jected to  hypnotic  treatment  and  presently  was  transformed 
by  him  into  a  substitute  technique  in  place  of  hypnotism. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  years  of  psychoanalytic  practice  on 
the  part  of  Freud  and  his  disciples,  so  many  new  facts  of 
psychological  import  were  brought  to  light  that  the  ideology 
of  psychoanalysis  soon  grew  beyond  the  scope  of  conven- 
tional   psychology,    bringing   into    being   what   practically 


'In  order  to  follow  the  argument  of  this  section  it  is  not  necessary  to 
have  been  either  psychoanalyzed  or  to  possess  a  technical  knowledge  of 
psychoanalysis,  but  a  general  familiarity  with  Freud's  doctrine  is  a  pre- 
requisite. For  this  purpose  Freud's  own  "A  General  Introduction  to  Psycho- 
analysis" is  recommended,  which  will  suffice  for  an  elementary  orientation.  A 
clear  although  somewhat  thin  presentation  of  the  bearing  of  psychoanalysis 
on  the  social  sciences  will  be  found  in  two  articles  by  Rank  and  Sachs  on 
"The  Significance  of  Psychoanalysis  for  the  Mental  Sciences"  in  The  Psycho- 
analytic Review,  191 5.  An  interesting  early  attempt  to  correlate  certain 
aspects  of  primitive  ideology  with  individual  psychic  phenomena  revealed 
by  psychoanalysis  is  Abraham's  "Dreams  and  Myth"  (Nervous  and  Mental 
Diseases  Monograph  Series,  15,  1913).  Freud's  theory  to  which  reference  is 
made  in  this  study  will  be  found  in  his  book,  "Totem  and  Taboo,"  but  the 
references  here  are  to  the  original  German  articles  in  the  Imago,  1912-1913. 
This  journal,  started  in  1912  and  edited  by  Freud,  is  devoted  exclusively 
to  the  application  of  psychoanalysis  to  social  science. 


390  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

amounts  to  a  new  psychological  system.  Nor  were  the 
psychoanalysts  satisfied  to  deal  with  the  individual  alone. 
At  first  hesitatingly,  then  with  daring  strides,  psychoanalysis 
was  applied  to  the  interpretation  of  art,  religion,  philos- 
ophy, ethics,  education,  criminology  and  history.  Relevant 
literature  now  numbers  hundreds  of  titles,  but  for  our  pur- 
pose it  will  suflice  to  deal  briefly  with  Freud's  own  attempts 
to  illumine  analytically  certain  correspondences  in  the 
psychic  life  of  neurotic  patients  and  of  primitive  man. 

In  dealing  with  animism  and  magic,  Freud  asserts  that 
the  fundamental  basis  of  all  magic  lies  in  the  mistaking  of 
an  ideal  connection  for  a  real  one,  a  formulation  which 
will  earn  the  assent  of  most  students  of  these  phenomena. 
This  is  how  a  doll  can  be  made  to  impersonate  a  distant 
enemy  whose  sickness  or  death  may  be  brought  about  by 
maltreating  the  doll.  A  similar  psychology  underlies  the 
process  of  so-called  fertilizing  magic,  where  various  physical 
manipulations  are  believed  to  bring  about  rain.  The  simi- 
larity between  the  desired  result  and  the  performed  act 
evokes,  through  its  ideational  reproduction  of  the  former, 
the  belief  that  the  result  has  been  attained.  The  moving 
principle  in  magic  is  man's  desires  which  are  realized  by 
being  psychically  lived  through  and  objectified.'  The  dis- 
regard of  the  limitations  of  time  and  space  so  characteristic 
of  magical  idiosyncrasy  Is  nothing  but  a  projection  into 
objective  reality  of  a  similar  disregard  so  characteristic 
of  thought.  The  whole  animistic  world,  the  realm  of  super- 
naturalism,  is  permeated  by  the  "omnipotence  of  thought." 
Now  Freud  Insists  that  a  similar  substitution  of  ideas  for 
things  Is  a  characteristic  symptom  of  the  neuroses.  The 
frequently  observed  "guilty  conscience"  of  the  neurotic,  for 
example.  Is  rooted  In  naught  else  but  his  criminal  thoughts 
which  are  by  him  objectified  as  criminal  acts. 


'This  projection  and  objectivation  of  psychic  states  as  an  inaportant 
principle  in  the  interpretation  of  magic  and  religion,  has  also  been  empha- 
sized by  Wundt  and  by  Simmel   (cf.  his  "Die  Religion,"  p.  15). 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       391 

Freud  draws  a  parallel  between  the  individual  and  the 
race,  the  stages  of  psychic  development  in  the  former  and 
the  transformation  of  attitudes  in  history.  The  sex  life 
of  the  individual,  at  first  characterized  by  a  self-sufficient 
pre-occupation  with  the  ego,  is  later  centered  in  the 
parents,  to  find  a  final  and  matter-of-fact  realization  in  the 
acceptance  of  normal  adult  sexuality.  Similarly,  early  magic 
and  animism  are  dominated  by  the  omnipotence  of  thought 
in  which  man  is  all-powerful,  for  whatever  he  may  desire 
he  has,  by  desiring  it;  later  there  appears  religion  in  which 
part  of  man's  power  is  surrendered  to  supernatural  beings; 
and  last  of  all  comes  science  in  the  name  of  which  man  ac- 
cepts as  his  guiding  principle  the  objectively  verifiable  reali- 
ties of  the  world  and  learns  to  know  his  real  power  by 
accepting  its  limitations,' 

Returning  once  more  to  the  idea  of  the  omnipotence  of 
thought  as  manifested  in  magic,  Freud  cites  the  following 
example  familiar  to  most  ethnologists.  It  is  often  ob- 
served, writes  Freud,  that  when  the  men  of  a  primitive 
tribe  start  out  for  a  great  hunt  or  war  raid  or  to  gather 
precious  plants,  the  women  at  home  are  subjected  to  a 
great  number  of  oppressive  taboos.  The  observation  of 
these  taboos  is  regarded  by  the  natives  as  a  condition  for  the 
success  of  the  enterprise.  It  requires  little  perspicacity  to 
realize,  adds  the  psychoanalyst,  that  this  far-reaching  force 
is  nothing  else  but  the  thoughts  of  home  of  those  who  are 
far  away,  the  homesickness  of  the  distant  ones,  and  that 
there  lies  hidden  behind  this  ideological  masquerade  the 
good  psychological  insight  that  the  men  will  do  their  best 
only  when  feeling  quite  sure  as  to  the  behavior  of  the  women 
at  home. 

In  dealing  with  the  subject  of  taboos,  Freud  once  more 
draws  attention  to  the  fact  that  in  the  case  of  the  taboo  as 
well  as  in  those  avoidances  which  are  characteristic  of  the 


Treud  is  also  at  one  -with  Wundt  in  asserting  that  art  has  inherited 
from  religion  the  substitution  of  mind  for  matter,  for  in  art  the  ideal  is 
the  real,  thought  is  its  own  objectivation. 


) 


392  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

neurotic  afflictions,  there  is  the  common  element  of  the  un- 
explained source  of  these  avoidances  as  well  as  the  fear 
that  some  person  or  persons  will  suffer  from  the  transgres- 
sion. There  is,  in  addition,  the  element  of  the  infectious- 
ness of  the  taboo,  the  belief  that  anything  that  comes  in 
touch  with  the  tabooed  person  or  object  or  action,  becomes 
itself  taboo;  just  as  in  the  case  of  the  neurotic  there  are 
"impossible"  things  and  persons  and  anything  that  comes 
in  touch  with  such  persons  or  things  becomes  itself  "im- 
possible." And  in  both  situations  there  are  certain  cere- 
monials which  can  be  gone  through,  such  as  purification  by 
water  and  the  like,  by  means  of  which  the  transgression  of 
a  taboo  can  be  expiated. 

Freud  thus  believes  that  some  of  the  most  widespread 
taboos,  among  which  are  the  taboos  on  sex,  are  based  on 
ancient  and  very  deep  rooted  urges  of  which  society  is  not 
aware,  but  which  persist  in  the  unconscious  of  individuals. 
Against  these  the  taboos  are  directed  and  the  infectiousness 
of  the  transgressor  is  based  on  the  unconscious  recognition 
that  his  example  is  attractive,  attractive  because  he  realizes 
the  urge,  hence  he  must  be  avoided. 

Turning,  finally,  to  his  main  topic,  totemism,  Freud 
once  more  emphasizes  the  analogy  between  the  regard  for 
animals  characteristic  of  totemism  and  a  similar  attitude 
observable  In  certain  psycho-neuroses.  Freud  cites  the  well- 
known  case  of  the  five-year-old  boy  analyzed  by  himself, 
with  his  fear  of  horses.  Another  instance  Is  that  of  the  boy 
Arpad,  analyzed  by  Ferenczi,  who  exhibited  a  mixed  atti- 
tude of  love  and  hate  or  fear,  toward  fowl.  In  these  two 
as  in  all  similar  cases,  psychoanalytic  treatment  reveals  the 
presence  of  an  ambivalent  attitude  toward  the  father,  which 
is  transferred  to  the  animal  against  whom  the  attitude  is 
avowedly  directed. 

With  enviable  courage  Freud  passes  from  these  instances, 
dealing  with  the  Individual,  to  the  group  attitude  toward  the 
totem.  If  the  totem  animal,  he  argues,  can  be  shown  to  be 
the  father  In  disguise,  then  the  two  fundamental  taboos  of 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY       393 

totemism — not  to  kill  the  totem  nor  to  marry  a  woman  of 
the  same  totem — receive  their  common  explanation.  They 
correspond  to  the  two  crimes  of  Oedipus,  who  killed  his 
father  and  married  his  mother,  and  to  the  two  arch-desires 
of  the  child,  the  unsatisfactory  repression  of  which,  or  the 
revival  of  which,  probably  constitute  the  root  of  all  psycho- 
neuroses. 

Then  Freud  proceeds  to  give  some  illustrations  of  totemic 
sacrifice,  a  subject  which  was  made  popular  by  the  researches 
of  Robertson  Smith.  He  refers  to  the  communal  partaking 
of  the  sacred  animal  and  the  consequent  feeling  of  guilt 
which  finds  its  expression  and  resolution  in  the  torture  of 
a  scapegoat. 

Thus  the  basis  is  laid  for  a  new  Interpretation  of  totem- 
ism.   It  is  this: 

In  very  early  times,  before  there  was  any  definite  social 
organization  or  religion,  man  lived  in  so-called  Cyclopean 
families  in  which  all  the  sex  rights  were  monopolized  by 
the  dominant  old  male,  while  the  younger  men,  his  sons, 
had  to  submit  to  the  restrictions  imposed  by  him  or  be 
killed  or  expelled.  The  great  dominant  male,  the  father, 
was  revered  by  the  others  for  his  power  and  wisdom,  but 
he  was  also  hated  on  account  of  his  monopolistic  preroga- 
tives. One  day  a  great  tragedy  occurred  in  such  a  primitive 
community.  The  brothers  banded  together — encouraged 
perhaps,  adds  Freud,  by  the  appearance  of  a  new  weapon — 
and  dared  to  do  together  what  each  one  had  long  desired  in 
secret.  They  murdered  the  father.  Then  they  consumed 
his  body  in  the  assurance  of  thus  acquiring  his  prowess.' 

The  patricidal  act  having  been  committed,  the  sons,  tor- 
tured by  remorse,  reverted  to  a  positive  attitude  toward 
the  father.  Seized  by  the  desire  to  be  obedient  to  him — ex 
post  facto — they  decided  to  continue  the  taboo  the  oppres- 
sive character  of  which  had  led  to  the  murder,  and  to  abstain 
from  sex  contact  with  the  women  of  the  group.  The  con- 
sciousness of  common  guilt  became  the  root  of  the  new  social 


Hmago,  No.  2,  1913,  p.  392. 


394  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

bond.  Thus  arose  the  clan  of  brothers,  protected  and  rein- 
forced by  the  taboo  on  killing  a  clan-mate,  in  order  that  the 
fate  of  the  father  might  not  befall  any  of  the  brothers. 
The  totem  of  the  clan  is  nothing  but  the  transfigured  remi- 
niscence of  the  father,  and  the  totemic  sacrifice,  an  occasion 
both  for  joy  and  sorrow,  is  the  dramatization  of  the  remote 
tragedy  in  which  the  jubilant  brothers  murdered  their 
despot  father,  and  having  accomplished  the  horrible  deed, 
conscience-stricken,  re-imposed  upon  themselves  the  oppres- 
sive taboo  in  the  name  of  which  the  murder  was  committed. 

Freud  goes  still  further.  In  the  central  setting  of  the 
Greek  tragedy  he  discovers  another  cultural  symbolization 
of  the  gruesome  event  of  earliest  antiquity.  The  hero's 
part  is  to  suffer,  for  he  is  but  a  dramatized  memory  of  the 
murdered  father.  The  sympathetic  chorus  are  the  patricidal 
brothers,  but  in  this  setting  their  part  in  the  original 
tragedy  is  disguised  under  the  cloak  of  a  responsive  and 
sympathetic  attitude  toward  the  hero,  a  psychological  sub- 
terfuge with  which,  in  the  domain  of  the  individual  psyche, 
psychoanalytic  technique  has  made  us  familiar. 

Thus,  four  great  institutions  of  mankind  are  ultimately 
reducible  to  one  basic  event,  a  common  psycho-sociological 
source.  Common  guilt  lay  at  the  root  of  the  new  social 
system,  the  primitive  Society,  the  clan.  Consciousness  of 
the  guilt  expressed  itself  in  a  regard  for  the  totem  father, 
the  earliest  Religion.  In  expiation  of  the  crime  there  was 
self-imposed  the  rule  of  exogamy,  the  great  sex  taboo,  the 
earliest  revelation  of  Morality.  In  the  domain  of  Art, 
finally,  Greek  tragedy  re-enacted  the  ancient  deed  in  an 
expiatory  disguise.* 


I 


*To  this  Freud  adds  a  footnote  which  is  worth  reproducing  here,  as 
typical  of  the  great  wizard  of  the  new  psychology  for  the  strikingly 
anabivalent  mixture  of  modesty  and  conceit.  Says  Freud:  Accustomed  to 
being  misunderstood,  I  deem  it  useful  to  emphasize  that  the  above  theoretical 
deductions  do  not  involve  an  underestimation  of  the  complex  nature  of  the 
phenomena  involved.  All  that  is  intended  is  to  add  another  factor  to  the 
known  or  as  yet  to  be  discovered  sources  of  Religion,  Morality  and  Society, 
a  factor  deducible  from  the  demands  of  psychoanalysis.  A  final  interpre- 
tative synthesis,  I  must  leave  to  others.  In  this  case,  however,  it  lies  in  the 
nature  of  the  new  contribution  that  it  will  needs  occupy  a  central  position 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      395 

It  Is  Impossible  here  to  furnish  a  detailed  critique  of 
Freud's  views — that  would  involve  a  systematic  examina- 
tion of  the  tenets  of  psychoanalysis — ^but  we  may  at  least 
indicate  the  direction  in  which  such  a  critique  would  lie. 
Freud's  formulation  of  the  principle  of  the  "omnipotence 
of  thought"  as  underlying  the  magical  universe,  leaves  little 
to  be  desired.  It  must  be  kept  in  mind,  however,  that  the 
principle  applies  In  modern  society  as  well,  as  we  had  occa- 
sion to  point  out  In  discussing  Levy-Bruhl's  position.  If 
that  Is  so,  the  analogy,  in  this  respect,  between  the  primi- 
tive man  and  the  neurotic  loses  much  of  its  force,  except  to 
the  extent  that  the  abnormal  psyche  Is  once  more  shown  to 
be  but  an  extreme  and  often  one-sided  variant  of  the 
normal  psyche.  The  same  comment  can  be  made  on  Freud's 
treatment  of  taboo.  As  to  the  analogy  between  the  three 
stages  of  sex  development  in  the  Individual  and  the  magic- 
rellglon-science  series  in  history,  the  thought  has  at  best 
but  a  metaphorical  significance.  Even  were  one  to  admit 
the  general  parallelism  of  social  and  individual  develop- 
ment— an  admission,  however,  that  would  have  to  be  flanked 
with  such  formidable  reservations  that  little  semblance  of 
parallelism  would  be  left — it  is  not  clear  why  magic  and 
religion  and  science,  as  successive  historic  eras,  should  be 
likened  to  stages  of  sex  development  rather  than  to  the 
corresponding  ideological  transformations  of  the  individual. 

But  the  part  of  Freud's  system  which  concerns  us  most 
is  his  theory  of  totemlsm.  There  are  a  number  of  minor 
objections  which  In  themselves  negate  the  feasibility  of  the 
author's  conception.  Totemic  sacrifice  is  a  phenomenon 
practically  unknown  to  ethnologists.  Robertson  Smith's 
"Instances"  were  all  based  on  reconstructed  material.  It  is 
thus  a  highly  arbitrary  procedure  on  the  part  of  Freud  to 
accept  speculative  evidence  merely  because  it  meets  the 
needs  of  his  theoretical  structure  and  in  the  face  of  the 


in  that  synthesis,  although  great  affective  resistances  will  have  to  be  orer- 
come,  before  such  a  position  is  acceded  to  it. 

To  this  we  add  an  exclatnation  mark  as  the  only  possible  comment 


396  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

rejection  of  such  evidence  by  those  familiar  with  early 
institutions. 

Further:  the  idea  of  a  primitive  Cyclopean  family  is  it- 
self a  figment/  The  nearest  approach  to  it  in  the  domain 
of  early  life  is  found  in  Australia  with  its  sex  and  other 
prerogatives  enjoyed  by  the  old  men.  Rivers'  Melanesian 
gerontocracy  is  once  more  a  purely  speculative  conception. 
Moreover,  it  is  a  far  cry  from  such  sex  prerogatives  of  the 
elders  in  a  highly  organized  social  system  (as  in  Australia), 
to  the  monopolistic  sex  rights  of  a  despot  father  in  a  Cy- 
clopean family. 

Again :  the  eating  of  the  father  by  the  patricidal  brothers 
is  a  notion  which  doubtless  would  have  met  with  derision 
in  the  aboriginal  fraternity  itself;  therefore,  it  does  not 
please  the  ethnologist.  The  probable  extent  of  early  can- 
nibalism has  often  been  exaggerated.  Man  has  never  used 
man  as  a  regular  article  of  diet.  There  has  been  some  cere- 
monial eating  of  man,  victims  of  a  war  raid  were  occasion- 
ally consumed  (as  in  Polynesia),  here  and  there  human 
flesh  was  used  in  cases  of  severe  famines.  But  we  do  not 
hear  of  the  eating  of  relatives.  To  assume  a  condition 
which  is  psychologically  improbable  and  remains  unsup- 
ported by  ethnographic  data,  is  to  transgress  the  bounds  of 
permissible  speculation. 

But  suppose,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  all  the  objec- 
tions here  enumerated  are  waived  or  successfully  disposed 
of  by  Freud.  There  still  remains  one  vital  criticism,  which 
leaves  the  theory  hanging  in  the  air,  as  it  were,  without  any 
foundation  whatsoever  in  the  known  facts  of  history  or 
biology.  Suppose  the  original  tragedy,  the  patricidal  act  of 
the  brothers,  had  actually  taken  place,  with  all  the  imme- 
diate psychological  consequences  assumed  by  Freud.     But 


'The  Cyclopean  family  was  introduced  into  ethnology  by  Atkinson  (see 
his  essay  on  "Tribal  Law"  in  Lang's  book  "Social  Origins"),  who  claimed 
Darwin  as  his  authority.  The  latter  refers  to  certain  conditions  obtaining 
among  some  of  the  higher  anthropoids,  on  the  basis  of  which  Atkinson 
builds  up  his  theory  of  the  Cyclopean  family.  But  even  this  idea  was 
discredited  by  later  zoologists. 


THEORIES  OF  EARLY  MENTALITY      397 

by  what  means  can  these  facts  be  brought  into  relation  with 
those  subsequent  historic  phenomena  of  society,  religion, 
morality  and  art,  the  root  of  all  of  which  Freud  posits  in 
that  ancient  enactment  of  the  Oedipus  complex  in  a  tragic 
social  setting?  Freud  does  not  utilize  tradition,  "social 
inheritance,"  as  the  link  between  the  generations.  What 
link,  then,  does  he  assume?  That  of  a  racial  unconscious, 
propagated  by  inheritance  from  generation  to  generation 
and  enriched  on  its  way  by  the  psychological  and  cultural 
experiences  of  its  temporary  human  carriers.  In  this  mech- 
anism, which  is  but  a  revival  of  the  theory  of  the  inheritance 
of  acquired  characters,  lies  the  dynamic  principle  of  the 
racial  unconscious,  and  with  it  stands  or  falls  most  of  what 
psychoanalysts  have  contributed  to  the  interpretation  of 
social  science.' 

But  modern  biology  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  the  claims  of  use 
inheritance.  In  the  light  of  what  the  biologist  knows  and 
does  not  know,  this  alleged  process  is  naught  but  "inheri- 
tance by  magic,"  to  use  Kroeber's  phrase.  For  all  we  know 
or  can  convincingly  assume,  one  generation  receives  nothing 
from  its  precursor  beyond  the  general  psycho-physical  in- 
heritance of  the  race,  plus  the  accumulated  civilizational 


^Freud  himself  is  by  no  means  unaavare  of  the  slippery  ground  he  is 
treading.  He  writes,  in  substance:  We  have  assumed  throughout  that 
there  exists  a  group  psyche  in  which  psychic  processes  take  place  as  they 
do  in  individuals.  In  particular,  we  assumed  that  the  consciousness  of 
guilt  persists  through  thousands  of  years  and  remains  potent  in  generations 
of  men  who  know  nothing  of  the  original  criminal  deed.  V^e  assumed  that 
emotional  reactions  which  could  have  originated  in  generations  of  sons 
maltreated  by  their  fathers,  persisted  through  generations  in  which  the  father 
was  eliminated  and  with  him  the  source  of  the  irritating  tension,  Freud 
proceeds  to  confess  that  these  are  serious  commitments.  He  feels,  however, 
that  they  are  inevitable.  Without  the  assumption  of  a  group  psyche — such 
is  his  categorical  statement — and  of  the  continuity  of  human  emotions  which 
make  it  possible  to  transcend  the  interruption  of  psychic  processes  through 
the  passing  away  of  individuals,  there  can  be  no  folk  psychology.  If  the 
psychic  processes  of  one  generation  are  not  communicated  to  the  next,  if 
each  generation  must  develop  its  own  psychic  adjustment  to  life,  then  there 
can  be  in  this  domain  no  progress  nor  development.  This  is  the  crux  of 
the  matter!  Is  there  development,  is  there  progress  in  the  psychic  lifeof 
individuals  beyond  that  progress  which  is  a  reflection  of  cultural  cumulation 
and  advance?  Perhaps  most  readers  of  these  pages  will  agree  this  is  more 
than  doubtful. 


398  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

possessions  acquired  through  education  and  the  other  chan- 
nels of  cultural  transfer. 

The  assumption  of  a  psychic  continuity  between  the  gen- 
erations is  but  an  alluring  fantasy  and  the  willingness  to 
accept  it  as  true,  in  the  face  of  contradictory  historic  and 
biologic  evidence,  may  well  be  regarded  as  a  curious  ex- 
ample of  that  omnipotence  of  thought  which  Freud  regards 
as  characteristic  of  the  psychic  life  of  primitive  man  and  of 
the  neurotic. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
EARLY  LIFE  AND  THOUGHT 

At  this  stage  it  will  be  well  to  turn  once  again  to  the  sub- 
ject of  primitive  mentality  and  attempt  to  weave  into  a 
whole  the  various  strands  of  argument  dispersed  throughout 
this  book. 

In  the  course  of  our  examination  of  early  civilization,  a 
number  of  attempts  to  explain  its  peculiarities  were  analyzed 
and  rejected.  Explanation  through  racial  differences  was 
one.  The  races  may  prove  to  be  similar  or  equivalent  in  all 
fundamentals — an  eventuality  from  which  we  need  not 
shrink — but  even  were  this  not  so,  we  know  enough  about 
racial  characters  to  feel  certain  that  the  possible  differ- 
ences would  not  be  such  as  to  account  either  for  the  contrast 
between  modern  and  primitive  civilization  or  for  the  great 
variety  of  cultural  types  found  within  early  civilization  itself. 
Another  factor  often  suggested  as  a  determinant  of  cultural 
differences  was  shown  to  be  physical  environment.  But 
on  further  examination  this  also  had  to  be  rejected.  Not 
that  it  does  not  count,  nor  that  adjustment  to  environmental 
conditions  is  of  no  significance  in  early  civilization.  Again 
and  again  we  had  occasion  to  see  that  the  very  reverse  is 
true.  But  physical  environment  is  powerless  to  account  for 
those  civilizational  peculiarities  which  strike  our  eye  and 
our  sense  of  values  when  we  compare  one  civilization  with 
another.  This  holds  whether  the  terms  of  comparison  are 
between  the  modern  and  the  primitive  or  are  restricted 
to  either  one  of  these  two  levels.  Nor  are  general  psycho- 
logical and  sociological  interpretations  wholly  adequate  as 
a  solution  of  our  problem.  General  psychological,  socio- 
logical and  historical  conditions  account  for  man  and  cul- 
ture everywhere  insofar  as  the  common  elements  are  con- 
cerned, but  they  break  down  when  the  differentiations  are 
the  things  one  is  interested  in. 

399 


400  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

The  very  fact  that  civilization  is  found  everywhere  im- 
plies a  general  psychological  similarity  of  mankind  and  a 
high  comparability  of  the  sociological  and  historical  deter- 
minants of  culture.  Moreover,  everywhere  the  major  sub- 
divisions of  civilization  are  the  same.  There  is  religion, 
social  and  political  organization,  economic  pursuits  and  in- 
dustries and  art;  there  is  ceremonialism,  and  leadership  and 
warfare;  there  is  barter  and  a  tendency  toward  inheritance 
of  privileges  and  commodities.  Nay,  we  can  go  even  fur- 
ther. In  each  of  these  manifold  aspects  of  civilization  there 
are  other  subdivisions  which  also  fall  into  the  category  of 
the  common-human.  In  the  economic  pursuits  and  indus- 
tries, there  are  habitations,  means  of  communication  and 
clothing;  there  are  tools  to  work  with  and  others  to  fight 
and  hunt  with;  there  are  things  to  lie  or  sit  upon,  others, 
to  carry  substances  or  liquids  in,  still  others,  to  cook  things 
in.  Similarly  in  religion.  In  addition  to  its  basic  aspects  in 
the  form  of  emotional  experiences,  ceremonialism  and 
dogma,  there  are  further  common  elements,  such  as  prayer 
and  the  belief  in  the  other  world,  which  are  wellnigh  uni- 
versal; spiritual  agents,  inmates  of  the  supernatural  world; 
projection  of  human  social  conditions  Into  the  supernatural 
realm,  and  religious  symbolism.  In  all  of  these  respects 
the  modern  and  the  primitive  meet  on  a  level  of  common 
humanity. 

Even  beyond  the  limits  of  individual  civilizations,  there 
are  conspicuous  similarities  between  the  modern  and  the 
primitive.  Intertribal  relations,  however  irregular,  and  with 
them  the  infusion  of  foreign  customs,  ideas  and  inventions 
are  present  everywhere,  and  the  effects  of  these  processes, 
while  differing  in  many  ways  in  modem  and  primitive  condi- 
tions, again  display  not  unimportant  similarities.  The  for- 
eign, for  example,  elicits  an  attitude  which  with  Freud  we 
may  call  ambivalent :  as  foreign,  it  arouses  suspicion,  resent- 
ment, ridicule;  as  foreign  also,  it  is  attractive,  valuable, 
stimulating,  worthy  of  emulation.  Here  once  more  we  can 
understand  our  early  brother  very  well.    So  far,  then,  all  we 


EARLY  LIFE  AND  THOUGHT  401 

have  is  common  humanity.  In  this  level  general  psycho- 
logical, sociological  and  historical  factors  are  sufficient  as 
determinants. 

But  we  have  also  become  familiar  with  another  set  of 
cultural  traits.  Within  the  realm  of  the  primitive,  five  dif- 
ferent civilizations  were  passed  in  review.  Later,  in  the 
course  of  a  less  detailed  and  no  longer  historical  but  com- 
parative treatment,  other  varieties  of  early  civilization  have 
come  to  view,  varieties  touching  upon  all  aspects  of  life, 
thought  and  activity.  In  the  course  of  ethnological  study, 
attempts  have  often  been  made  to  interpret  these  differences 
within  early  civilization  by  means  of  racial  or  sub-racial 
traits,  environmental  peculiarities  or  discrepant  psycho- 
logical tendencies.  But  it  must  have  become  clear  in  the 
course  of  our  discussion  that  the  differentia  of  individual  civi- 
lizations cannot  be  accounted  for  in  terms  of  any  of  these 
alleged  determinants.  The  explanation  of  individuality 
must  be  sought  not  in  biological  type,  nor  in  physical  envi- 
ronment, nor  again  in  psychological  traits  or  general  histor- 
ical or  sociological  conditions,  but  in  the  specific  historic 
fates  of  each  local  culture  in  its  particular  geographical  and 
historical  setting.  The  explanation  here  is  identical  with 
historic  reconstruction,  and  to  the  extent  to  which  this  is 
faulty  or  incomplete,  our  knowledge  and  understanding  of 
the  particular  civilizational  differences  involved  will  be  the 
same. 

In  this  chapter  we  will  not  be  concerned  with  either  com- 
mon human  traits  or  the  peculiarities  of  local  civilizations. 
Our  task  is  to  throw  light  on  primitive  civilization  and  men- 
tality as  they  stand  before  us  when  compared  and  contrasted 
with  the  mind  and  culture  of  modern  man. 

What  then,  in  summary,  are  the  characteristics  of  early 
civilization  ? 

The  number  of  individuals  leading  a  common  cultural 
life  in  a  local  group  or  a  few  local  groups  is  small.  It  may 
be  counted  by  tens  or  by  hundreds,  but  that  is  the  limit. 
Even  in  Africa,  where  populational  conditions  are  so  dif- 


402  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

ferent  from  other  primitive  areas  and  in  many  ways  similar 
to  those  of  modern  life,  the  closely  knit  group  of  common 
cultural  life  is  small. 

Correlated  with  this  numerical  limitation  of  the  early 
group  is  its  relative  local  isolation.  Not  that  there  is  com- 
plete cutting  off  of  contact  with  other  groups  of  differing 
civilizational  cast.  No,  that  condition  is  scarcely  ever  re- 
alized in  human  communities;  generally  speaking,  inter- 
tribal contact  is  a  constant  civilizational  phenomenon.  Nev- 
ertheless, such  contact  in  early  conditions  is  relatively  infre- 
quent, irregular  and  non-productive  of  civilizational  change.^ 

This  latter  factor  is  based  not  merely  on  the  infrequency 
and  irregularity  of  intercourse,  but  also  on  the  lack  of  plas- 
ticity in  primitive  civilization  when  compared  with  its  mod- 
ern counterpart.  The  mores  and  patterns  of  a  primitive 
group  are  set  in  rigid  frames.  Primitive  civilization  is  stiff- 
jointed,  and  the  number  and  kind  of  movements  and  adjust- 
ments it  can  make  at  short  notice  are  strictly  limited. 

In  all  prehistoric  communities,  those,  that  is,  without 
written  records,  the  continuity  of  cultural  life  from  gener- 
ation to  generation  is  carried  by  two  vehicles :  on  the  one 
hand,  by  the  objective  continuity  of  material  culture,  on 
the  other,  by  tradition,  the  knowledge  of  facts  and  events 
as  carried  in  the  minds  of  individuals  and  communicated 
by  the  spoken  word  from  fathers  to  sons.^ 

The  historic  depth  of  such  tradition  is  slight.  It  is  com- 
municated by  fathers  and  grandfathers  and  it  reaches  back  to 
their  fathers  and  grandfathers ;  but  beyond  this  span  of  some 
three  or  four  generations,  tradition  does  not  extend  with  any 


*A  sufficient  vindication  of  this  statement  will  be  found  in  the  marked 
individuality  of  local  cultures  in  early  society. 

The  importance  of  the  spoken  word  as  a  carrier  of  tradition  in  early 
communities  deserves  emphasis  here.  For  the  modern  man,  accustomed  as 
he  is  to  the  highly  complicated  channels  through  which  civilization  per- 
petuates itself,  it  is  wellnigh  impossible  to  visualize  the  conditions  of  these 
prehistoric  communities,  in  which  the  persistence  of  the  material  objects  of 
culture  was  supplemented  by  tradition  alone.  The  spoken  word,  language, 
here  becomes  the  sole  living  vehicle  of  cultural  perpetuation.  The  past 
comes  to  the  present  in  the  form  of  things  and  words,  the  rest  vanishes.  The 
student  of  early  inventions,  institutions  and  ideas,  often  stands  perplexed 
and  helpless  before  this  self-obliteration  of  early  civilization. 


EARLY  LIFE  AND  THOUGHT  403 

degree  of  accuracy.  After  this,  moreover,  the  historic  in- 
terest or  inquisitiveness  of  an  early  group  breaks  down. 
The  world  of  fathers,  grandfathers,  and  great  grandfathers 
is  a  world  of  the  concrete  and  the  significant.  Then  comes 
the  alcheringa,  the  mythological  period,  good  to  play  with 
and  to  dream  about,  but  of  little  consequence  for  the  real- 
ities of  life. 

The  knowledge  of  facts  and  events,  historically  so  shal- 
low, is  also  closely  limited  geographically.  The  width  of 
the  cultural  span  is  no  less  restricted  than  its  depth.  The 
group  is  thoroughly  conversant  with  the  human,  animal  and 
material  factors  of  its  immediate  environment.  Outside 
of  this,  a  very  fragmentary  and  unreliable  set  of  data  is 
available  referring  to  the  peoples  and  regions  with  which 
some  sort  of  contact  is  maintained.  But  there  the  world 
of  humanity  ceases.  Beyond  is  the  void,  the  realm  of  im- 
agination, with  its  grotesque  creatures  and  fantastic  hap- 
penings. 

In  a  society  where  personal  observation  and  the  absorp- 
tion of  tradition  are  the  only  sources  of  knowledge  and  wis- 
dom, age  is  a  tremendous  advantage.  A  man  who  has 
passed  through  the  different  age  periods,  and  with  due  cere- 
monial initiation,  has  joined  one  by  one  all  or  most  of  the 
sacred  societies  of  the  group;  who  has  been  a  bachelor,  a 
married  man,  a  father  and  father-in-law,  a  warrior  and  a 
leader  in  the  chase ;  who  as  an  elder  has  taken  part  in  the 
deliberations  over  war,  peace  or  internecine  strife ;  who  has 
composed  songs  and  told  and  retold  stories;  who  has  expe- 
rienced the  tragic  emergencies  of  primitive  life,  such  as 
famine,  pestilence,  flood  and  drought;  and  above  all,  one 
who  has  had  the  time  and  the  opportunity  to  talk  with  his 
own  elders  and  pick  up  from  their  lips  whatever  knowledge 
and  experience  in  fact  and  lore  they  themselves  possessed — 
such  a  man  comes  to  be  an  Impersonation  of  the  culture 
itself,  an  encyclopedia  of  knowledge,  a  record  of  events,  a 
Jack-of-all-trades,  a  Who's  Who  and  a  Blue  Book,  all  in 


404  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

one.  Him  one  reveres  and  admires,  to  him  one  turns  for 
advice  in  doubt,  in  perplexity  and  in  danger.  Thus,  every- 
where in  early  society,  the  elders  are  in  the  saddle.  It  is 
the  fathers'  generation  that  rules,  and  the  fathers'  genera- 
tion, here  as  always,  is  the  bulwark  of  law  and  order,  of 
established  routine,  of  a  cautious  avoidance  of  the  new,  of 
a  sagacious  management  and  exploitation  of  the  young. 

This  conservative  trend  is  reinforced  by  other  factors 
While  no  primitive  group  reveals  complete  identity  of 
knowledge,  attitude  and  occupation  throughout  all  its  mem- 
bers, while  there  is  division  of  labor,  specialization  of  in- 
formation and  of  skill  along  the  lines  of  sex,  age,  locality, 
the  primitive  group  is  in  the  main  strikingly  homogeneous 
from  a  cultural  standpoint.  A  great  number  of  individuals 
within  the  group  know  and  feel  and  do  or  can  do  the  same 
things ;  and  not  a  few  activities  and  experiences  are  partici- 
pated in  by  nearly  all  of  the  conscious  individuals  of  the 
group.  Under  such  conditions  the  control  of  public  opinion, 
of  customary  routine,  is  wellnigh  absolute.  The  individual 
is  but  a  miniature  reproduction  of  the  group  culture  and 
the  latter  but  the  magnified  version  of  the  knowledge,  be- 
havior and  attitudes  of  the  individual.  Any  conspicuous 
digression  on  the  part  of  the  individual  from  the  set  norm 
of  thought  and  action,  is  resented  and  repressed,  not  merely 
as  a  breach  of  custom,  but  as  a  flagrant  violation  of  the  very 
essence  of  the  group  culture,  as  an  unnatural  act,  for  which 
as  a  rule  the  punishment  is  administered  by  Nature  herself 
in  the  form  of  that  automatic  chastisement,  Marett's  nega- 
tive magic,  which  threatens  any  one  who  dares  to  transgress 
a  taboo. 

But  this  does  not  exhaust  the  factors  that  stand  for  con- 
servatism. 

Contrary  to  what  is  found  under  modern  conditions,  a 
primitive  group  lives  in  close  communion  with  nature.  We 
have  learned  either  to  control  environment  or  to  protect 
ourselves  against  the  immediate  consequences  of  deficient 
control,  thus  cherishing  with  relative  impunity,  the  illusion 


EARLY    LIFE    AND    THOUGHT  405 

of  an  actual  domination  of  natural  forces  by  the  artificial 
powers  and  rhythms  of  society.  If  heat  or  rain  belie  the 
prognostications  of  the  weather  man,  nature  is  down  for 
bad  behavior;  and  if  the  sun  refuses  to  conform  with  the 
regulation  of  Daylight  Saving,  the  sun  is  in  the  wrong.  How 
different  in  early  conditions!  Here  every  breath  of  com- 
munal life,  in  its  matter-of-fact  aspect  and  in  its  superna- 
turalism  and  ceremonialism  as  well,  is  dominated  by  natural 
rhythms  and  adjustments.  Such  adjustment  to  the  physical 
environment  constitutes  a  genuine  and  vital  problem  in  every 
primitive  group,  and  no  stability  is  reached  until  it  is 
achieved.  After  this  there  is  little  incentive  for  change 
in  the  economic  and  industrial  life.  An  equilibrium  with 
nature  is  reached  which  is  felt  to  be  satisfactory.  There  is, 
moreover,  no  conscious  idea  of  progress.  Owing  to  the  lack 
of  familiarity  with  other  civilizations,  comparative  cultural 
material  is  slight.  Thus,  the  economic  adjustment  is  taken 
almost  as  a  fact  of  nature.  Many  an  accidental  invention  by 
a  member  of  the  group  or  an  importation  of  a  useful  sug- 
gestion from  a  neighboring  tribe,  may  be  rejected  in  favor 
of  the  accustomed  routine.  However  strenuous  or  really 
deficient,  the  solution  of  the  economic  problem  is  accepted 
as  final. ^ 

Such,  then,  are  the  general  conditions  of  primitive  life. 
Under  these  conditions,  economic  pursuits  and  industry, 
religion,  social  structure  and  art,  produce  certain  inevitable 
and  drastic  effects  which  account  for  the  most  conspicuous 
characteristics  of  primitive  mentality. 

In  the  course  of  economic  and  industrial  life,  much  know- 
ledge is  accumulated,  knowledge  of  the  forms,  habits  and 
behavior  of  animals,  of  the  properties  of  plants,  of  some  of 
the  more  apparent  and  regular  functions  of  the  celestial  bod- 
ies and  of  the  powers  of  Nature,  of  heat  and  cold,  drought 
and  flood.    This  is  often  supplemented  by  a  detailed  know- 


^For  an  interesting  presentation  of  these  economic  adjustments  to  environ- 
ment and  their  ensuing  eflfects,  see  Wissler's  brief  but  thoughtful  article  on 
"The  Maize  Culture  Complex,"  American  Journal  of  Sociology,  1916. 


4o6  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

ledge  of  materials,  of  their  utilizability  for  industrial  pro- 
cesses, and  of  the  processes  themselves  with  reference  to 
ease  or  difficulty,  brevity  or  extension  in  time,  efficacy  and 
technique.  In  this  connection  motor  habits  develop,  which 
represent  nothing  but  knowledge  and  technical  experience 
rendered  mechanical  through  habituation.  Only  less  ex- 
tended stores  of  data  gradually  accumulate  about  the  psy- 
chological tendencies  and  the  behavior  of  human  individuals. 

Now,  at  first  sight  there  is  in  this  field  overwhelming  evi- 
dence not  only  of  knowledge,  but  of  observation,  inference, 
generalization,  logic,  common  sense,  invention.  The  latter, 
in  fact,  must  be  assumed  to  have  often  been  conscious  and 
deliberate.  Not  that  there  were  professional  inventors — 
for  of  this  there  is  no  evidence — but  that  at  certain  stages 
in  the  course  of  the  invention  there  was  deliberate  effort 
toward  the  solution  of  a  mechanical  problem.^ 

But  aside  from  this  it  will  be  observed  that  the  psycho- 
physical processes  involved  are  direct,  pragmatic,  teleo- 
logical.  There  is  in  this  domain  some  of  the  implied  reason 
that  is  characteristic  of  animal  adjustments,  which  also  bear 
apparent  evidence  of  intellectual  acumen,  the  sort  of  adjust- 
ments so  often  noted  in  the  industrial  life  of  the  bee,  the 
ant,  the  spider,  the  beaver.  The  logic  observed  in  early  tools 
and  weapons,  traps  and  snares,  pots,  houses  and  boats,  is  the 
logic  of  nature  itself,  the  logic  of  the  objective  relations  of 
things,  which  through  the  medium  of  action,  molds  the 
mind  so  inevitably  and  smoothly  as  to  be  almost  wholly  un- 
conscious. And  if  consciousness  and  ratiocination  arise  in 
the  course  of  the  industrial  activity,  they  are  presently  sub- 
merged, the  objective  results  alone  being  passed  on  to  the 
following  generation.  As  the  aim  in  all  of  these  pursuits 
is  not  to  know  but  to  do,  not  to  understand  but  to  achieve, 
the  realm  of  matter-of-fact  becomes  a  happy  hunting  ground 
for  the  pragmatist,  not  an  abode  for  the  pursuer  of  the  "idle 
curiosity."  There  is  satisfaction  when  the  thing  works 
and,    barring    accidents,    no    further    changes    are    made. 


^For  an  analysis  of  invention  see  pp.  157  seq. 


EARLY    LIFE    AND    THOUGHT  407 

Henceforth,  the  mind  accepts  these  condensed  depositories 
of  reason  traditionally.  They  become  part  of  the  technical 
equipment  of  behavior,  not  of  thought  and  understanding. 

This  explains,  at  least  in  part,  why  the  matter-of-fact  ex- 
perience of  early  life  fails  to  bring  its  full  intellectual  har- 
vest. The  observation,  knowledge,  invention,  potential 
science  of  this  realm,  remain  psychologically  dormant,  in 
solution,  as  it  were,  in  the  psycho-physical  flow  of  behavior; 
until  centuries  later,  under  other  conditions  of  life  and  in- 
quiry, these  precious  fragments  of  the  semi-unconscious 
mind  become  precipitated  as  clear-edged  crystals  of  science 
and  critical  thought. 

But  this  domain  of  early  life  has  also  other  aspects. 

It  must  now  be  noted  that  in  industry  as  a  technical  pur- 
suit and  in  other  matter-of-fact  activities,  the  individual  is 
always  alone  with  some  aspect  of  physical  nature.  That  is 
so  even  though  he  may  be  formally  associated  in  his  ac- 
tivities with  other  individuals  of  the  group.  In  hunting 
and  building,  in  agriculture  and  the  manufacture  of  pots, 
there  may  be  and  frequently  is,  association,  group  labor, 
not  uncommonly  accompanied  by  one  of  those  rhythms  of 
communal  work  of  which  Buecher  wrote  so  eloquently,  and 
which,  operating  through  psychological  channels,  greatly 
further  the  effectiveness  and  enjoyment  of  labor.  But  tech- 
nically speaking,  the  individual  remains  alone  with  his  task. 
Whether  it  is  a  pot,  basket  or  blanket  that  is  being  manu- 
factured, or  the  soil  that  is  being  tilled,  or  an  animal  that 
is  being  hunted  or  fought — in  all  of  these  matter-of-fact 
situations  man  faces  an  individual,  technical  task.  In  in- 
dustry he  must  overcome  the  resistance  of  the  material, 
master  the  mechanical  processes  involved;  in  war  and  the 
chase  he  must  become  expert  In  the  great  variety  of  move- 
ments and  tricks  by  means  of  which  the  prey  or  the  enemy 
are  to  be  sought,  captured  or  killed.^ 


*It  deserves  emphasis,  in  this  connection,  that  it  is  this  individual  relation- 
ship to  the  physical  situation  which  furthers  the   rational   adjustment  o£ 

which  we  have  spoken. 


40  8  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

To  this  there  is  an  important  corollary,  both  on  the  social 
and  on  the  individual  side.  In  all  of  these  directions  there 
is  room  for  the  development  and  exhibition  of  skill.  In 
industry  and  the  chase,  in  a  seafaring  expedition  and  a  war 
raid,  things  can  be  done  well  and  less  well.  Now,  it  must 
be  remembered  that  in  primitive  conditions  a  great  many 
individuals  do  and  know  the  same  things.  Thus  there  is 
opportunity  for  a  comparison  of  individual  efforts,  there  is 
rivalry,  in  the  face  of  the  condemnation  or  approbation  on 
the  part  of  the  group.  The  latter  here  functions  as  a  com- 
munity of  experts,  thus  providing  a  setting  in  which  the 
individual  is  spurred  on  to  the  utmost  of  his  skill  and  ability. 
To  make  or  do  something  in  the  presence  of  another  or 
others  who  can  pass  competent  judgment,  is  ever  a  powerful 
stimulant  toward  achievement.  Therein  we  find  one  source 
of  the  conspicuous  fact  that  in  primitive  industries  things  are 
so  often  well  made.  Among  primitive  tribes,  including  the 
lowest,  many  objects,  appliances,  tools,  are  fashioned  with 
great  skill,  and  in  a  way  to  fulfill  their  purpose  most  effec- 
tively, subject  of  course  to  certain  limitations  inherent 
in  the  complete  theoretical  naivete  of  their  makers.^ 

Paradoxical  though  it  may  seem,  there  is  in  this  realm 
also  room  for  individualism.  Once  more,  man  and  animal 
present  an  analogy.  The  animal,  With  its  biological  tradi- 
tion, common  to  all  members  of  a  species,  is  driven  by  blind 
instinct,  but  acts  individually  in  accordance  with  the  hetero- 
geneous requirements  of  special  situations.  It  is  similar 
with  early  man:     in  his  economic  and  industrial  activities 


^There  is  a  great  contrast  here  between  primitive  and  modern  handi- 
work. Apart  from  the  articles  made  by  highly  skilled  craftsmen,  whose 
work  is  of  course  in  many  respects  superior  to  the  corresponding  products 
of  early  man,  many  things  in  modern  life  are  made  or  done  very  badly. 
One  of  the  reasons  for  this  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  individuals  who  make  or 
do  the  things  are  surrounded  by  others  who  have  no  knowledge  of  the 
techniques  involved.  As  a  good  illustration  may  serve  the  things  made  in 
the  home,  in  the  line  of  sewing,  carpentry  or  even  cooking,  things  which  so 
often  look  "home  made."  And  the  most  conspicuous  example  are  the 
achievements  of  our  domestic  servants,  who  not  knowing  how  to  do  the 
things  that  they  are  to  do,  also  lack  the  stimulation  they  might  derive 
from  the  competency  of  their  masters.  Thus,  inefficient  servants  become 
efficient  in  the  presence  of  a  good  housekeeper,  while  proving  wholly  impos- 
sible in  association  with  a  bad  one. 


EARLY    LIFE    AND    THOUGHT  409 

as  well  as  in  the  matter-of-fact  aspects  of  social  life,  while 
operating  within  the  rigid  frame  of  traditional  norm  and 
routine,  he  also  performs  individually.  The  very  fact  of  the 
absence  of  writing  and  of  measurement  makes  the  exact  re- 
production of  events  and  of  things  impracticable.  The 
exact  reproduction  of  records  which  writing  and  printing 
make  possible  under  modern  conditions,  and  the  exact  repro- 
duction of  objects  which  results  from  tools  themselves  ac- 
curately made  and  from  the  application  of  measurement,  are 
quite  foreign  to  primitive  life,  and  the  ensuing  variety  of 
records,  processes  and  things,  has  often  been  observed. 
Thus,  civilization  is  forced  to  reproduce  itself  within  very 
strict  traditional  bounds,  to  be  sure,  but  with  infinite  minor 
fluctuations  emanating  from  individuals.^  This  is  so  in  indus- 
trial life  as  well  as  in  hunting,  fighting,  dancing,  singing, 
story-telling  and  the  like.  In  all  of  these  pursuits  a  wide 
range  must  be  left  for  individual  variation,  skill  and  ability. 
After  all,  then,  the  individual,  while  serving  as  a  perpetu- 
ator  of  culture,  also  expresses  himself  and  derives  therefrom 
a  sense  of  personal  achievement. 

Turning  once  more  to  the  matter-of-fact  activities  as  so 
many  opportunities  for  the  exhibition  of  skill,  one  observes 
that  skill  and  rivalry  lead  to  vanity.  With  justice  has  the 
peacock  theory  of  early  man  been  emphasized,  from  Herbert 
Spencer  to  Robert  H.  Lowie.  Primitive  man  is  intensely 
vain.  He  delights  in  excelling  in  those  pursuits  which  lie 
nearest  to  the  hearts  of  his  companions  and  to  his  own. 
Social  approbation  and  prestige  are  his  dearest  rewards. 
And  in  proportion  to  his  achievement  or,  at  times,  out  of 
proportion  to  it,  is  his  vanity.  It  so  happens  that  men  vary 
in  their  innate  potentialities  of  skill  and  prowess.  Thus 
similarity  of  opportunity  and  training  does  not  lead  to  uni- 
formity of  results.     Some  will  make  and  do  things  better 


'The  impression  is  not  intended  that  this  technical  condition  for  inac- 
curate reproduction  constitutes  the  main  or  only  reason  for  individual 
variation.  It  is  only  one  reason.  The  others  are  explained  in  the  para- 
graphs that  follow. 


4IO  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

than  others,  while  the  mark  set  by  a  few  will  for  long  re- 
main unexcelled.  All  this  furthers  effort,  rivalry,  skill  and 
vanity. 

This  phenomenon  is  not  foreign  to  modern  civilization 
wherever  somewhat  similar  conditions  obtain.  Thus  the 
hunter  and  the  fisherman,  the  craftsman  and  the  actor,  the 
athlete  and  the  soldier,  varied  though  their  pursuits  may  be, 
are  at  one  in  their  rivalries,  their  pointed  exhibitions  of  skill, 
their  vanities  and  their  bragging.  And  even  in  the  domain 
of  thought,  the  sensitiveness  and  vanity  of  the  platform  lec- 
turer contrast  strangely  with  the  austerity  and  detachment  of 
the  closet  philosopher. 

Further  evidence,  powerful  if  indirect,  of  individual- 
ism in  early  industry,  may  be  seen  in  the  emergence  of  art 
from  it;  for  important  aspects  of  primitive  art  have  not 
merely  been  applied  to  objects  of  industry,  but  were  born 
within  it.  Technical  skill,  after  it  reaches  a  certain  perfec- 
tion, leads  to  virtuosity,  to  the  enjoyment  of  delicate 
minutiae,  to  play  with  technical  processes.  Thus  the  creative 
imagination  is  stimulated. 

Now  we  must  return  to  the  main  thesis  of  this  section, 
namely,  the  remarkably  slight  extent  to  which  the  great 
achievements  of  primitive  industry  are  translated  into  terms 
of  rational  thought.  We  have  in  part  accounted  for  this 
result,  but  there  are  further  contributory  causes. 

There  exists  in  primitive  society  a  system  of  attitudes  and 
ideas  about  the  world  of  nature  and  the  things  and  beings 
in  it,  which  is  felt  to  be  highly  satisfactory  and  the  presence 
of  which  obviates  for  a  long  time  the  necessity  of  any  further 
analyses  and  interpretations.  This  is  the  system  of  super- 
naturalism.  It  is  not  the  emotional  side  of  it,  such  as  the 
religious  thrill  and  its  corollaries,  that  is  involved  here,  nor 
again,  the  behavior  side  which  takes  the  form  of  ceremonial- 
ism. The  aspect  of  supernaturalism  with  which  we  are  for 
the  present  concerned  is  its  dogmatic  or  intellectual  side, 
the  system  of  ideas  or  concepts  comprised  in  it.  Now  we 
must  recall  that  supernaturalism  as  a  system  of  ideas  is  in 


EARLY    LIFE    AND    THOUGHT  411 

itself  perfectly  reasonable.  When  the  limitation  of  know- 
ledge and  the  theoretical  naivete  of  aboriginal  man  are 
taken  into  consideration,  the  unconscious  conclusions  or  hy- 
potheses reached  by  him  with  reference  to  the  world  of 
things  and  beings  are  wellnigh  inevitable.  It  is  quite  safe 
here  to  endorse  the  very  considerable  body  of  relevant  facts 
marshalled  by  Spencer  and  Tylor.  The  idea  of  spirit,  of 
power,  the  transformation  of  substances  and  beings  into 
each  other,  are  natural  conclusions  to  be  drawn  from  certain 
experiences  by  an  uninstructed  mind.  That  this  is  so  is 
amply  attested  by  a  similar  tendency  even  today,  often  ob- 
served in  those  whose  mental  processes  are  not  firmly  but- 
tressed by  theoretical  safeguards. 

In  the  second  place,  we  must  insist  that  these  ideas  are 
not  reached  by  a  deliberate  act  of  reason.  They  are  not  con- 
clusions resulting  from  a  conscious  and  rational  attempt 
to  answer  questions  or  solve  problems.  Instead,  they  are 
direct  and  intuitive.  Here  we  must  endorse  the  opinion 
of  Levy-Bruhl  and  Wundt,  who  represent  this  position  as 
against  the  cruder  rationalistic  associationism  of  Spencer, 
Tylor  and  Frazer.  The  intuitive  adjustment  which  expe- 
rience elicits  here  may  be  envisaged  as  an  instantaneous 
solution.  A  puzzling  psychological  maladjustment,  an  idea- 
tional friction  with  facts,  calls  forth  a  direct  and  automatic 
response,  and  the  adjustment  is  made.  To  investigate  under 
the  circumstances  rather  than  to  accept  such  an  instantaneous 
solution,  is  a  highly  indirect  procedure,  impossible  until 
much  later  in  the  advance  of  civilization.  And  finally,  we 
accept  the  formulation  best  expressed  by  Freud,  of  the 
"omnipotence  of  thought,"  involving  the  ascription  of  ob- 
jective reality  to  mental  states  and  relations. 

The  basic  differentia  of  supernaturalism  thus  appear  to 
be  the  following:  erroneous  but  superficially  plausible  asso- 
ciations and  analogies  are  accepted  as  objectively  true,  lead- 
ing to  a  world  of  spirits,  powers,  magical  transformations; 
human  desires  and  wants  are  projected  Into  this  supernatural 


412  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

world  as  properties  and  functions  of  supernatural  beings; 
^nd  the  human  shape  as  well  as  human  psychology  and 
social  relations,  are  projected  into  the  realm  of  animals, 
natural  forces  and  celestial  bodies. 

On  this  skeletal  framework  the  systematizing  thought 
of  the  priest  weaves  its  elaborate  and  multi-colored  fabric. 
Rapturously  the  story-teller  plays  with  it;  and  in  it  human 
imagination,  unchecked  by  criticism  and  objective  reference, 
reaches  marvelous  heights  of  complexity  and  virtuosity. 
Myth  making  is  a  self  fertilizing  pursuit.  It  becomes  an 
end  in  itself.  Wundt  is  emphatically  right  in  dwelling 
at  length  on  the  wondrous  faculties  of  the  myth  building 
imagination.  It  is  with  singular  propriety  that  he  chose  to 
introduce  his  treatise  on  "Religion  and  Myth"  by  a  volume 
on  the  history  of  the  human  imagination. 

Once  these  ideas  are  established,  once  this  world  view 
has  been  formed — and  they  are  found  everywhere  where 
man  is — why  should  they  not  persist?  Under  primitive 
conditions  of  life  and  knowledge  there  is  no  reason  for  re- 
jecting any  of  the  conclusions,  theories  or  constructs  of  the 
myth  building  fancy.  They  are  neither  unreasonable  nor 
unaesthetic  nor  uninteresting.  On  the  contrary:  the  phan- 
tasmagoria of  supernaturalism  is  aesthetically  attractive, 
it  has  beauty  of  thought  and  of  form  and  of  movement,  it 
abounds  in  delightful  samples  of  logical  coherence  and  it 
is  full  of  fascination  for  the  creator,  the  systematizer  and 
the  beholder. 

Granted,  the  tenets  of  supernaturalism  are  not  true — 
but  what  is  truth?  Shielded  by  the  warm  intimacy  of 
psychological  reality,  supernaturalism  may  well  dispense 
with  the  truth  of  objective  verification. 

In  supernaturalism  as  in  science,  experience  and  imagina- 
tion are  wedded  together.  In  supernaturalism  imagination 
works  upon  experience  accepted  in  faith  and  naivete;  in 
science,  the  experience  utilized  by  imagination  is  critcally 
sifted  with  reference  to  its  objective  verifiability.  The  way 
toward  a  world  view  adopted  by  supernaturalism  is  the 


EARLY    LIFE    AND    THOUGHT  413 

easier  way,  it  follows  the  spontaneous  tendencies  of  the 
mind,  it  operates  with  experience  accepted  without  question, 
with  smoothly  working  associations,  with  projections  and  ob- 
jectivations  of  mental  states,  with  the  play  of  fancy,  with 
the  constructs  of  an  unencumbered  imagination.  The  way 
toward  a  scientific  world  view,  on  the  contrary,  is  devious 
and  hard  to  tread.  The  spontaneous  tendencies  of  the  mind 
which  here  also  are  in  operation,  must  now  be  constantly 
controlled  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  criticism,  of  merciless 
logic,  of  objective  reference.  For  the  fulfillment  of  these 
conditions  primitive  life  lacks  the  necessary  elements.  More- 
over, no  attempts  are  made  in  this  direction.  For  the  time 
being,  the  riddles  of  the  universe  are  solved  without  residue 
by  supernaturalism. 

But  supernaturalism  cannot  altogether  escape  occasional 
conflicts  with  objective  reality.  From  these  it  invariably 
emerges  victorious,  for  it  refers  its  failures  to  the  same 
mechanism  through  which  it  achieves  its  successes.  If 
magic  fails,  it  is  magic  that  is  held  responsible  for  the 
failure.^ 

In  the  presence  of  this  ideological  adjustment  to  the 
world,  an  adjustment  so  effective  and  so  stimulating,  what 
chance  was  there  for  the  timid  admonitions  toward  reason 
and  objectivity  emanating  from  the  realm  of  the  matter-of- 
fact,  to  take  firm  root  in  the  minds  of  men?  Successful  in 
the  level  of  industry  and  certain  other  forms  of  behavior, 
reason  capitulated  in  the  domain  of  thought  before  the  more 
direct,  more  brilliant  and  more  sweeping  conquests  of  super- 
naturalism. 

The  ideational  contributions  of  social  organization  and 
of  art  still  remain  to  be  examined. 

It  has  often  been  noted  as  characteristic  of  primitive 


'Here  once  more  there  is  an  analogy  between  the  devices  adopted  for  its 
self-preservation  by  supernaturalism  and  those  used  for  the  same  purpose 
by  Freudian  psychoanalysis.  When  the  reluctance  to  accept  the  tenets  of 
psychoanalysis  is  ascribed  by  Freud  to  the  mechanisms  of  repression  and 
resistance,  he  applies  psychoanalysis  to  explain — and  explain  away — the 
objections  to  it.    Thus  is  the  new  psychology  rendered  unassailable. 


414  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

thought  that  associations  are  formed  between  aspects  of 
civilization  which  among  ourselves  are  either  wholly  dis- 
parate or  only  loosely  connected.  Professor  Boas,  in  par- 
ticular, is  wont  to  draw  the  attention  of  his  students  to  this 
aspect  of  the  subject.  Such,  for  example,  are  the  associa- 
tions between  art  and  religion,  between  supernaturalism 
and  social  organization,  between  proprietary  and  other  priv- 
ileges and  definite  social  units.  And  there  are  many  others 
of  which  Levy-Bruhl  has  treated  at  length  in  his  book.  It 
19,  moreover,  characteristic  of  these  associations  that  they 
rest  against  a  strong  or  even  violent  emotional  background. 

The  conditions  of  early  social  organization  seem  adequate 
to  provide  at  least  one  far  reaching  explanation  of  the 
existence  and  emotional  vigor  of  such  associations. 

It  was  shown  before  how  great  is  the  variety  of  principles 
on  the  basis  of  which  social  units  are  formed  in  primitive 
society.  Blood  relationship,  actual  and  assumed,  locality, 
age,  sex,  generation  and  occupation,  all  provide  their  share. 
One  conspicuous  way  in  which  these  social  forms  are  re- 
flected in  another  aspect  of  civilization  was  revealed  in  our 
analysis  of  supernaturalism.  The  social  forms  and  func- 
tions of  this  wo%-ld  of  humanity  ever  tend  to  be  transferred 
to  the  inhabitants  and  conditions  of  the  other  world.  But 
the  social  units  "fexercise  another  more  significant  influence 
on  the  entire  ideational  cast  of  early  civilization.  Whether 
the  social  units  are  clans  or  villages,  families  or  societies, 
they  become  points  of  attachment  for  features  belonging  to 
different  aspects  of  civilization.  At  different  times  in  our 
discussion  of  social  organization,  religion  and  art,  we  have 
noted  how  religious,  artistic,  economic,  mythological,  medi- 
cinal, features  attach  themselves  to  social  units  and  are  car- 
ried by  them  in  the  form  of  functions.  Thus  a  level  is  pro- 
vided for  the  formation  of  associations  between  the  social 
organization  and  these  other  cultural  features  as  well  as 
between  the  latter  themselves.  We  know  with  what  tenacity 
the  primitive  mind  clings  to  associations  once  formed,  and 
with  Levy-Bruhl,  we  have  seen  how  such  associations  are 


EARLY   LIFE   AND    THOUGHT  415 

solidified  into  cycles  of  participation,  within  which  iron-cast 
rapports  come  to  obtain  between  things,  beings  and  acts. 

The  emotional  background  against  which  participations 
rest  is  further  deepened  by  ceremonialism.  On  ceremonial 
occasions,  when  one  or  another  kind  of  social  group  func- 
tions as  a  unit,  the  cultural  associations  of  these  units  reach 
the  acme  of  cohesion  and  interpenetration.  In  this  crucible 
of  psychic  incandescence  the  cultural  conglomerate  carried 
by  the  social  units  is  cast  into  a  solid  mass  which  thence- 
forth proves  wellnigh  indisruptible.  Such  ceremonial  di- 
versions, moreover,  recur  periodically.  Thus  there  is  no 
cooling  of  the  ever  glowing  mass,  no  flagging  of  the  emo- 
tions, no  sinking  of  the  cultural  associations  to  the  more 
precarious  level  of  purely  ideational  connections.  While 
brushing  aside  the  exaggerations  of  Durkheim's  great  book, 
due  credit  must  be  given  him  for  the  emphatic  recognition 
of  the  tremendous  importance  of  ceremonialism. 

A  word,  finally,  is  due  to  the  similar  function  of  art.  It  is 
the  art  object  as  a  symbol,  not  as  decoration,  that  counts  in 
this  connection.  A  symbol,  from  one  angle,  implies  a  refusal 
to  reject  or  treat  lightly  a  mental  association  once  formed. 
This,  as  was  shown,  is  typical  of  a  civilization  where  the 
"omnipotence  of  thought"  holds  sway.  Now,  art  objects, 
by  their  concreteness,  suggestiveness  and  emotional  appeal, 
lend  themselves  beautifully  to  the  function  of  association 
carriers.  Moreover,  such  objects  can  be  produced  or  re- 
moved at  will,  they  can  be  hidden  away,  and  the  very  care 
and  veneration  with  which  they  are  handled  enhances  the 
sanctity  of  the  associations  that  cling  to  them.  And  once 
more,  on  ceremonial  occasions,  when  the  symbolic  insignia 
are  produced,  they  become  the  radiation  points  of  cultural 
suggestions.  Thus,  the  art  object  as  a  symbol  gives 
direction  and  lends  new  force  to  the  emotional  and 
ideational  associations  involved,  while  furnishing  a  power- 
ful lever  to  the  crowd-psychological  atmosphere  typical  of 
such  gatherings. 

This  brings  the  all  too  brief  analysis  to  a  close. 


BIBLIOGRAPHIC  GUIDE^ 

Introduction:   Man  and  Civilization 

A  discussion  of  racial  differences,  physical  and  psychic, 
and  of  the  part  played  by  heredity  and  environment  in  the 
determination  of  physical  types,  will  be  found  in  Franz  Boas' 
"Mind  of  Primitive  Man"  (The  Macmillan  Co.),  Chapters 
I,  II,  and  III.  Those  who  may  be  interested  in  the  nature 
and  difficulties  of  the  anatomical  and  statistical  work  in- 
volved, are  referred  to  R.  B.  Bean's  "A  Racial  Peculiarity 
in  the  Brain  of  the  Negro"  {American  Journal  of  Anatomy, 
Vol.  IV,  1905).  This  should  be  supplemented  by  Fr.  P. 
Mall's  "Several  Anatomical  Characters  of  the  Human 
Brain,  etc."  {ibid,  Vol.  IX)  and  by  Carl  Pearson's  "The 
Relationship  of  Intelligence  to  Size  and  Shape  of  Head  to 
Other  Physical  and  Mental  Characters"  {Biometrika,  Vol. 
V) .  The  general  nature  of  civilization  is  discussed  by  Boas 
in  Chapters  IV,  V  and  VI  of  the  same  book;  also  by  R.  H. 
Lowie  in  the  first  four  chapters  of  his  "Culture  and  Eth- 
nology" (Douglas  C.  McMurtrie  and  Boni  and  Liveright). 
A  good  idea  of  what  is  meant  by  culture,  especially  among 
anthropologists,  can  also  be  secured  from  R.  R.  Marett's 
"Anthropology"  (Home  University  Library),  and  his 
"Psychology  and  Folk-Lore"  (The  Macmillan  Co.),  espe- 
cially chapters  I,  IV,  V,  and  VI.  What  culture  stands  for 
in  modern  society  is  stated  with  great  lucidity  and  force  in 
James  Harvey  Robinson's  "The  Mind  in  the  Making" 
(Harper  and  Bros.). 

The  principles  of  classical  evolutionism  are  best  studied 
in  a  number  of  concrete  works.  Herbert  Spencer's  "Princi- 
ples of  Sociology"  stands  unique  for  closeness  of  argumen- 
tation and  a  wholly  uncritical  as  well  as  sweeping  utilization 


'This  guide  is  not  meant  to  be  either  exhaustive  or  systematic.  It  com- 
prises a  limited  number  of  references,  with  comments,  to  competent  works 
covering  the  subjects  discussed  in  the  chapters  of  this  book. 

416 


BIBLIOGRAPHIC  GUIDE  417 

of  the  comparative  method.  F.  B.  Jevons'  "Introduction 
to  the  History  of  Religions"  is  notable  for  its  persistent  at- 
tempt to  trace  many  lines  of  religious  development  down 
to  one  ultimate  source;  while  Lewis  H.  Morgan's  "Ancient 
Society"  is  recommended  on  account  of  its  historical  role,  as 
well  as  for  the  roots  contained  in  it  of  the  doctrine  of  eco- 
nomic interpretation  of  history.  Among  more  recent  socio- 
logical works,  Franklin  H.  Giddings'  "The  Principles  of 
Sociology"  (The  Macmillan  Co.)  may  be  read  in  this  con- 
nection. For  a  critical  estimate  of  the  evolutionary  posi- 
tion see  Chapter  VII  of  Boas'  book,  Chapter  IV  of  Lowie's 
book,  as  well  as  his  "Primitive  Society"  (Boni  and  Live- 
right),  especially  Chapters  I  and  XV. 

Part  I 
Early  Civilizations  Illustrated 

Chapters  I,  II  and  III :  The  Eskimo,  The  Tlingit  and  Haida 
and  The  Iroquois. 

As  a  general  background  of  American  ethnology,  L.  Far- 
rand's  "Basis  of  American  History"  (Harper  and  Bros.) 
is  the  best  elementary  treatise.  A  work  of  a  much  higher 
order,  having  the  additional  merit  of  embracing  both  North 
and  South  America,  is  Clark  Wissler's  "The  American 
Indian"  (Douglas  C.  McMurtrie).  Wissler's  book  is  in 
no  sense  elementary.  The  treatment  in  many  sections  is  too 
condensed  and  therefore  dry;  however,  it  is  the  first  work 
of  such  scope  by  a  professional  anthropologist  and,  as  such, 
of  great  value. 

The  best  general  treatise  on  the  Eskimo  is  Boas'  "The 
Central  Eskimo"  (6th  Report,  Bureau  of  Ethnology).  The 
same  author's  "The  Eskimo  of  Baffin  Land  and  Hudson 
Bay"  (Bulletin  XV  of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural 
History)  Is  equally  valuable.  See  also  J.  Murdoch's  "Eth- 
nological Results  of  the  Point  Barrow  Expedition"  (9th 
Report,  Bureau  of  Ethnology),  E,  W.  Nelson's  "The  Es- 
kimo About  Bering  Strait"  (i8th  Report,  Bureau  of  Eth- 


41 8  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

nology,  Part  I),  V.  Stefansson's  "My  Life  with  the  Es- 
kimo" (The  Macmillan  Co.)  and  Rink's  "Eskimo  Tales." 

The  best  works  on  the  Tlingit  and  Haida  are  John  R. 
Swanton's  "Contributions  to  the  Ethnology  of  the  Haida" 
(Publications  of  the  Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedition,  Vol. 
V,  Part  I)  and  "Social  Conditions,  Beliefs  and  Linguistic 
Relationships  of  the  Tlingit  Indians"  (26th  Report,  Bureau 
of  Ethnology).  A  very  interesting  discussion  of  Northwest 
Coast  art  is  Boas'  "The  Decorative  Art  of  the  Indians  of 
the  North  Pacific  Coast"  (Bulletin  IX  of  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History).  A  detailed  description  of 
the  technique  and  artistic  features  of  the  Chilkat  blanket 
will  be  found  in  G.  T.  Emmons'  "The  Chilkat  Blanket" 
(Memoir  III  of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  His- 
tory, Part  IV). 

The  best  general  treatise  on  the  Iroquois  still  remains 
Lewis  H.  Morgan's  "The  League  of  the  Iroquois"  (edited 
and  annotated  by  Herbert  M.  Lloyd;  Dodd,  Mead  and 
Co.)  Horatio  Hale's  "The  Iroquois  Book  of  Rites"  is  some- 
what too  technical  for  the  lay  reader,  but  contains  a  very 
interesting  account  of  the  political  ceremonialism  of  these 
tribes.  A  brief  description  of  Iroquois  societies  is  given  in 
A.  C.  Parker's  "Secret  Medicine  Societies  of  the  Seneca" 
{American  Anthropologist,  New  Series,  Vol.  II).  The 
mythology  of  the  Iroquois  is  discussed  in  the  following  pub- 
lications by  J.  N.  B.  Hewitt:  "Iroquoian  Cosmology" 
(21st  Report,  Bureau  of  Ethnology),  "The  Iroquois  Con- 
cept of  the  Soul"  (Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  Vol. 
VIII),  "Orenda  and  a  Definition  of  Religion"  {American 
Anthropologist,  New  Series,  Vol.  IV)  and  Jeremiah  Cur- 
tin's  and  J.  N.  B.  Hewitt's  "Seneca  Fiction,  Legends  and 
Myths"  (32nd  Report,  Bureau  of  Ethnology). 

Chapter  IF:  Uganda. 

The  only  general  treatment  of  African  Ethnology  in  Eng- 
lish will  be  found  in  F.  Ratzel's  "History  of  Mankind." 
A  detailed,  although  technically  not  perfect,  treatise  on  the 


BIBLIOGRAPHIC  GUIDE  419 

Baganda  is  J.  Roscoe's  "The  Baganda"  (Macmillan  &  Co.). 
This  should  be  supplemented  by  the  same  author's  "The 
Northern  Bantu"  (Macmillan  &  Co.).  For  a  comparative 
appergue  of  African  conditions  at  least  one  or  two  other 
descriptive  volumes  should  be  read,  such  as  R.  E.  Dennett's 
"At  the  Back  of  the  Black  Man's  Mind"  and  Torday  and 
Joyce's  "The  Bushongo." 

Chapter  V :  Australia. 

A  simple  elementary  treatise  is  N.  W.  Thomas'  "The 
Natives  of  Australia."  The  same  author's  "Kinship  Or- 
ganizations and  Group  Marriage  in  Australia"  (Cambridge, 
1906)  is  a  much  more  difficult  book  but  very  useful,  al- 
though now  somewhat  out  of  date.  Spencer  and  Gillen's 
"The  Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia"  (Macmillan  & 
Co.)  "The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia"  {ihid) 
and  "The  Native  Tribes  of  the  Northern  Territory  of 
Australia"  (ibid)  should  be  read.  These  works  fall  far 
short  of  the  strict  retjuirements  of  ethnological  method,  but 
are  the  only  general  and  recent  works  in  English  available 
on  the  central  and  northern  tribes.  To  complete  the  pic- 
ture of  Australian  society  these  should  be  supplemented  by 
Howitt's  "The  Native  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia" 
(Macmillan  &  Co.)  and  W.  E.  Roth's  "Ethnological  Stud- 
ies among  the  N.  W.  C.  Aborigines  of  Queensland."  The 
latter  work,  while  concise  and  dry,  is  highly  competent. 

Part  II 

Industry  and  Art,  Religion  and  Society 

Chapters  VII  and  VIII :  Economic  Conditions  and  Industry. 

Few  works  are  available  on  early  economic  conditions 
except  in  the  form  of  detailed  monographs.  Lowie's  chap- 
ter on  "Property"  (in  his  "Primitive  Society")  is  excellent, 
and  relevant  literature  is  given  there.  On  American  eco- 
nomic conditions  consult  Wissler's  thoughtful  article  "The 
Material  Culture  of  the  North  American  Indians"  {Ameri- 


420  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

can  Anthropologist,  19 14)  as  well  as  Chapters  I  to  IV  and 
VI  to  VIII  of  his  "The  American  Indian."  By  far  the  best 
detailed  accounts  of  early  industrial  processes  are  Boas' 
"The  Kwakiutl  of  Vancouver  Island"  (Publications  of  the 
Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedition,  Vol.  V,  Part  II)  and  "Eth- 
nology of  the  Kwakiutl"  (35th  Report,  Bureau  of  Ethnol- 
ogy), which,  among  other  interesting  features,  contains  an 
unique  account  of  the  primitive  cooking  art  in  the  form  of 
recipes  of  the  Kwakiutl.  Detailed  treatises  on  Indian  foods 
are  A.  C.  Parker's  "Iroquoian  Uses  of  Maize  and  Other 
Food  Plants"  (Bulletin  144  of  The  New  York  State 
Museum)  and  F.  W.  Waugh's  "Iroquois  Foods  and  Food 
Preparation"  {Geological  Survey,  Canada,  Memoir  86). 
An  elaborate  account  of  Indian  agriculture  is  given  in 
G.  L.  Wilson's  "Agriculture  of  the  Hidatsa  Indians,  an 
Indian  Interpretation"   (University  of  Minnesota), 

Chapter  IX:  Art. 

Among  older  works  representing  the  evolutionary  posi- 
tion, see  A.  C.  Haddon's  "Evolution  in  Art,"  H.  Balfour's 
"The  Evolution  of  Decorative  Art"  and  Y.  Him's  "Origins 
of  Art,  a  Sociological  and  Psychological  Enquiry."  There 
is  no  general  treatise  on  primitive  art  embodying  the  mod- 
ern ethnological  standpoint.  Special  monographs  have  to 
be  consulted  in  this  connection.  The  most  excellent  discus- 
sion is  contained  in  Boas'  "The  Decorative  Designs  of 
Alaskan  Needlecases"  (Proceedings,  U.  S.  National  Mu- 
seum, Vol.  34,  1908).  See  also  Wissler's  "The  Decorative 
Designs  of  the  Dakota  Indians"  and  A.  L.  Kroeber's  "The 
Arapaho"  (Bulletin  XVIII  of  the  American  Museum  of 
Natural  History).  Hamilton's  "Maori  Art"  is  recom- 
mended as  the  only  book  available  which  gives  an  idea  of 
the  remarkable  artistic  productions  of  these  people. 

Chapters  X  and  XI :  Religion  and  Magic. 

Among  the  older  works  see  Spencer's  "Principles  of  Soci- 
ology," Vol.  I,  and  E.  B.    Tylor's  "Primitive    Culture." 


BIBLIOGRAPHIC  GUIDE  421 

Tylor's  treatise,  while  out  of  date,  presents  an  unrivalled 
picture  of  the  animistic  world  of  primitive  man.  These 
should  be  supplemented  by  Frazer's  "The  Golden  Bough," 
Vols.  I  and  II,  "The  Magic  Art,"  and  Andrew  Lang's 
"Magic  and  Religion"  and  "The  Making  of  Religion." 
R.  R.  Marett's  "The  Threshold  of  Religion"  is  a  much  more 
critical  book,  written  in  full  cognizance  of  modern  ethno- 
logical method.  Among  modern  speculative  works  dealing 
at  least  in  part  with  primitive  religion,  Wundt's  "Elements 
of  Folk  Psychology"  and  Durkheim's  "The  Elementary 
Forms  of  the  Religious  Life"  are  equally  Interesting  and 
original.  Levy-Bruhl's  meritorious  treatise  on  primitive 
mentality  is  unfortunately  not  as  yet  available  in  English. 

There  are  many  recent  books  and  essays.  Goldenweiser's 
articles  in  The  New  International  Encyclopedia  on  "An- 
cestor Worship,"  "Animism,"  "Magic,"  "Nature  Wor- 
ship," "Polytheism"  and  "Totemism"  represent  briefly  the 
present  status  of  these  topics.  E.  S.  Hartland's  "Myth  and 
Ritual'  discusses  interestingly  the  relation  between  belief 
and  behavior  in  primitive  religion.  A  brief  theoretical 
interpretation  of  the  foundations  of  religion  will  be  found 
in  Goldenweiser's  over-concise  "Spirit,  Mana  and  the  Re- 
ligious Thrill"  {Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology  and 
Scientific  Methods,  1915) ;  see  also  the  same  author's  "Re- 
ligion and  Society:  a  Critique  of  Emile  Durkheim's  Theo- 
ries of  the  Origin  and  Nature  of  Religion"   {ibid,   19 17). 

The  recent  work  done  in  North  America  along  the  line  of 
religion  in  all  of  its  aspects  is  briefly  and  suggestively  re- 
viewed in  Franz  Boas'  "Mythology  and  Folk  Tales  of  North 
American  Indians"  {Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  1914), 
Paul  Radin's  "Religion  of  the  North  American  Indians" 
{ibid),  and  R.  H.  Lowie's  "Ceremonialism  in  North  Amer- 
ica" {American  Anthropologist,  1914). 

Of  the  many  concrete  descriptions  of  primitive  religions, 
the  following  are  selected  as  particularly  representative: 
W.  Bogoras'  "The  Chukchee,  Religion"  (Publications  of 
the  Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedition,  Vol.  VII,   Part  I), 


422  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

J.  Jochelson's  "The  Koryak,  Religion  and  Myths"  {ibid, 
Vol.  VI,  Part  I),  Callaway's  "The  Religious  System  of  the 
Amazulu"  and  J.  Codrington's  "The  Melanesians." 

Chapters  XII  and  XIII :  Society. 

Of  the  older  works  the  following  are  still  worth  reading: 
Morgan's  "Ancient  Society,"  which  is  in  many  points  incor- 
rect and  difficult,  but  with  these  reservations,  distinctly 
worthwhile.  Spencer's  "Principles  of  Sociology,"  Vol.  I 
and  McLennan's  two  volumes  of  "Studies  in  Ancient  His- 
tory" have  merely  a  historical  interest.  Westermarck's 
"The  History  of  Human  Marriage,"  third  edition,  in  three 
volumes,  is  very  valuable.  Muller-Lyer's  "The  History 
of  Social  Development"  (Alfred  A.  Knopf) ,  while  in  part 
boldly  hypothetical,  is  a  very  interesting,  and,  on  the  whole, 
in  line  with  modern  ethnological  knowledge. 

In  the  study  of  social  organization  a  complete  revolution 
has  taken  place  in  recent  years,  resulting  in  much  new  ma- 
terial, descriptive  as  well  as  theoretical.  Of  the  theoretical 
works,  W.  H.  R.  Rivers'  "Kinship  and  Social  Organization" 
is  recommended  as  setting  forth  clearly  the  problem  of  rela- 
tionship terms.  The  so-called  American  standpoint  is  repre- 
sented by  J.  R.  Swanton's  "The  Social  Organization  of 
American  Indians"  {American  Anthropologist,  1905), 
Goldenweiser's  "The  Social  Organization  of  the  Indians  of 
North  America"  {ibid,  19 14)  and  Lowie's  "Social  Organi- 
zation" {American  Journal  of  Sociology,  19 14).  Lowie's 
"Primitive  Society"  represents  faithfully  and  clearly  the 
standpoint  of  critical  ethnology  on  most  problems  of  early 
social  organization.  Hartland's  book  of  the  same  name, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  still  oriented  according  to  the  lights  of 
the  now  wellnigh  defunct  doctrines  of  classical  evolutionism. 

Of  the  descriptive  works  a  few  can  be  mentioned  here: 
Swanton's  "The  Haida"  is  good.  A  very  interesting  de- 
scriptive and  theoretical  study  is  A.  L.  Kroeber's  "Zuni  Kin 
and  Clan"  (Anthropological  Papers  of  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History,  Vol.  XVIII,  Part  II).    Bog- 


BIBLIOGRAPHIC  GUIDE  423 

oras'  "The  Chuckchee,  Social  Organization"  (Publications 
of  the  Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedition,  Vol.  VII,  Part  III) 
is  exceptionally  clear  and  replete  with  concrete  data.  African 
political  organization  is  exemplified  in  Roscoe's  "The 
Baganda"  and  Dennett's  "The  Religious  and  Political  Sys- 
tem of  the  Yoruba."  The  social  organization  of  Australia 
will  be  found  described  in  the  works  by  Spencer  and  Gillen, 
Howitt  and  Roth,  referred  to  before;  while  Melanesian 
social  organization  is  briefly  outlined  in  Rivers'  "History  of 
Melanesian  Society."  Interesting  studies  of  special  prob- 
lems in  social  organization  are  made  by  Rivers  in  The  Cam- 
bridge Anthropological  Expedition  to  Torres  Straits,  Vols. 
V  and  VI. 

The  literature  on  the  subject  of  totemism  is  enormous. 
For  descriptive  material  J.  G.  Frazer's  "Totemism  and 
Exogamy"  (Macmillan  &  Co.)  is  the  most  convenient 
source.  Much  of  the  theoretical  discussion  will  be  found 
summarized  In  Goldenwelser's  "Totemism,  an  Analytical 
Study"  {Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  19 10)  and  in  his 
article  on  totemism  in  The  New  International  Encyclopedia. 

Part   III 
The  Ideas  of  Early  Man 
Chapters  XV  and  XVI: 

Spencer's  views  on  early  mentality  form  part  of  his  "Prin- 
ciples of  Sociology,"  Vol.  I;  see  especially  the  chapters  de- 
voted to  primitive  man — physical,  primitive  man — emo- 
tional, and  primitive  man — intellectual.  Frazer's  theories 
will  be  found  in  his  work  on  magic  referred  to  before. 
Wundt's  theories  are  available  to  English  readers  only  inso- 
far as  they  are  contained  In  his  "Elements  of  Folk  Psy- 
chology." 

Most  of  Durkhelm's  sociological  theories  are  comprised 
in  his  last  book  "The  Elementary  Forms  of  the  Religious 
Life."  For  a  critical  discussion  of  Durkheim  see  Golden- 
welser's article  referred  to  before.    An  English  translation 


424  EARLY     CIVILIZATION 

of  Levy-Bruhl's  "Les  fonctions  mentales  des  socletes  in- 
f erieures"  will  soon  be  available ;  meanwhile,  Goldenweiser's 
review  in  the  American  Anthropologist  for  191 1  may  be 
consulted. 

The  theories  of  Freud  discussed  in  this  book  are  pre- 
sented in  his  "Totem  and  Taboo"  (Moffat,  Yard  and  Com- 
pany). The  full  understanding  of  his  theories,  however, 
presupposes  familiarity  with  at  least  the  elements  of  his 
psychoanalytic  system.  For  this  purpose  Freud's  "A  Gen- 
eral Introduction  to  Psychoanalysis"  (Boni  and  Liveright) 
will  suffice.  The  relation  of  psychoanalysis  to  social  phe- 
nomena is  the  subject  of  a  monograph  by  O.  Rank  and  H. 
Sachs,  "The  Significance  of  Psychoanalysis  for  the  Mental 
Sciences"  (Nervous  and  Mental  Diseases  Monograph 
Series,  No.  23). 


INDEX 


Africa,  see  Baganda 

Age,  256,  257 

Agriculture,  early  and  historic,  26; 
Iroquois,  73;  stage  of,  25 

Allen,  G.,  23 

Ankermann,  B.,  199,  303,   304,  308 

Art,  165-183,  and  aesthetics,  175; 
and  culture,  183;  and  industry, 
165;  Australian,  104;  children's, 
173;  conventionalization,  169;  geo- 
metrical and  realistic,  171;  Iro- 
quoian,  70;  Maori,  169;  material 
and  design  in,  167,  168;  modern 
and  early,  169  note;  Northwest 
Coast,  68;  realistic,  174  note; 
style,  174;  style  and  creativeness 
in,  166;  style  in  two  memorial 
columns,  177,  178;  symbolism,  65, 
181,   182;   unconscious  basis  of,  17 

Australia,  100-114,  churinga,  108; 
decorative  art,  104;  dramatic  art, 
104;  economics,  100-103;  expedi- 
tions, 103;  initiation  rites,  iii; 
magic,  105 ;  markets,  X03 ;  medi- 
cine-men, 106;  old  men,  113;  phy- 
sical characteristics,  4;  religion, 
104;  social  organization,  108-112; 
specialization  in  industry,  103 ; 
totemism,  109 ;  women,   109 

Bachofen,  J.  J.,  23 
Baer,  K.  E.  von,  21 
Baganda,   84-99,  building  of  capital, 

89;  crimes,  96;  gentes,  84;  human 

sacrifices,  99;  king  and  chiefs,  88; 

material   culture,   83;    queens,   89; 

religion,  96,  97,  98,  99;  roads,  93; 

taxes,  94. 
Balfour,  H.,  23 

Bean,  R.  B.,  on  Negro  brains,  6 
Beethoven,  L.  von,   18 
Bella  Coola,  religion,  207-211 
Benedict,    R.,    on    guardian    spirits, 

191   note 
Blackfoot,  237 
Blanket,  Chilkat,  67 
Blood-revenge,  Eskimo,   39 
Boas,     F.,     312     note;     on    Alaskan 

needlecases,    172   note;   on   Eskimo 

dogs,  48 
Boats,  balsa,  bark  canoe,  bull-boat, 

dugout    with    outriggers,     dugout 

with  built-up  sides,  135;  kayak,  42 


Bow    and    arrow,    geographical    dis- 
tribution, 134 
Bow,  Eskimo,  49  • 

Bogoras,  W.,  205  note;  214  note,  217 
Boomerang,  xo2 
Bororo,  223 

Brain   and   nature,   132 
Buecher,  K.,  on  evolution,  23 

Canoes,  see  boats 

Ceremonialism,  415 

Chiefs,  Iroquois,  76,  77;  Baganda, 
92,  93;  Australia,  271-278 

Chilkat  blanket,  67 

Chukchee,  295 ;  medicine-men,  214- 
224;   religion,  202-206 

Civilization,  and  borrowing,  27;  and 
diffusion,  116,  117;  and  environ- 
ment, 292-301;  and  history,  115, 
116;  and  the  family,  239;  art  and 
thought,  415;  as  a  continuum,  31; 
changes  in,  15;  characteristics  of 
early,  401-405 ;  common  human 
traits  in,  115;  definition  of  local, 
123;  evolution  in,  125;  folk,  117; 
individual  creativeness  in,  15,  407; 
individuality  of,  19;  matter-of-fact 
and  thought,  405 ;  modern  and 
others,  12,  13,  14,  15;  moulding  of 
individual  by,  16;  persistence  of, 
15;  social  organization  and 
thought,  414,  415;  supernaturalism 
and  thought,  410-414;  two  funda- 
mental processes  of,   124 

Clans,   see  social  organization 

Codrington,  R.  H.,   197 

Comparative  method,  diagram  illus- 
trating, 22 

Conventionalization   in   art,  25 

Culture,  see  civilization 

Darwin,  Ch.,  3,  21 

Dieri,  magicians,  223 

Diffusion  and  independent  develop- 
ment, 301-324;  assimilation  of  im- 
ported traits,  319,  320,  321;  com- 
mon psychic  elements  in,  323 ;  con- 
tinuous distribution,  303 ;  discon- 
tinuous distribution,  307 ;  Graeb- 
ner's  position,  311,  312;  potter's 
wheel,  317,  318,  319;  Rivers'  posi- 
tion, 313;  universal  features,  301, 
302;  see  also  geographical  distri- 
bution 


42s 


426 


INDEX 


DobrizhoflFer,  M.,  222 

Durkheim,  E.,  200,  283 ;  critique  of 
his  theory,  371-380;  on  early  men- 
tality, 360-380;  origin  of  mourn- 
ing, 366;  origin  of  sacred,  361; 
origin  of  survival,  365,  366;  un- 
der-estimation  of  the  matter-of- 
fact,  378. 

Economics,  see  industry 

Edison,  Th.,  18 

Environment,  adjustment  to,  136; 
see  also  civilization  and  environ- 
ment 

Eskimo,  34-52,  293;  adjustment  to 
environment,  52;  antler  bow,  50; 
art,  38;  bird  spear,  45;  blood-re- 
venge, 39 ;  confession,  38 ;  dog, 
48;  drill,  51;  harpoon,  43;  kayak^ 
42;  leaders,  39;  medicine-men, 
38;  mythology  of,  34;  satirical  con- 
tests, 40;  seal-skin  floats,  46;  sex 
customs,  39;  shamanism,  221; 
singing-house,  37;  sledge,  46,  47; 
snow-house,  40;  social  organiza- 
tion, 38;  taboos,  37;  throwing 
board,  45 ;  wooden  bow,  49 

Ethnology,  modern,  on  evolution,  24 

Evolution,  125,  126,  127,  128 ;  and 
diffusion,  26;  and  progress,  26; 
exposition  and  critique,  20-27  5 
gradual  and  cataclysmic, '26;  in 
art,  171 ;  pre-scientific  attempts  at, 
20;  Spencer  on,  21,  336  note; 
Wundt  on,  359 

Exogamy,  among  Tlingit  and  Haida, 
56;  derivative,  249,  250;  Frazer's 
theory  of  origin,  340;  see  also 
totemism 

Family,  237 

Fire-making,  in  earliest  times,  133 

Frazer,  J.  G.,  23,  184,  193,  199,  283; 
critique  of  his  theory,  342-348 ; 
magic  and  religion,  338;  magic 
and  science,  338;  magic  and  the 
association  of  ideas,  337;  origin 
of  exogamy,  340;  theories  of  early 
mentality,  337-348 

Freud,  S.,  283,  370  note;  critique  of 
his  position,  395,  396,  397,  398; 
individual  and  the  race,  391 ;  neu- 
rotic and  primitive,  390;  on  magic, 
390;  on  taboo,  391;  on  totemism, 
392,  393,  394;  theories  of  early 
mentality,  389-398 

Gambetta,  F.,  brain  of,  5 
Gennep,  A.  van,  283,  383 


Gens,  see  social  organization 

Geographical  distribution  of,  Aus- 
tralian classes,  281;  bow  and  ar- 
row, 135;  clan  and  gens,  280; 
family-village,  280;  garments  in 
Africa,  303  ;  garments  in  America, 
302;  huts  in  Africa,  304;  local 
variants,  306 ;  magic  flight  myth, 
309;  political  forms,  281;  pottery 
in  America,  305 ;  social  forms, 
279;  totemism  in  Africa,  308 

Ghosts,   330 

Gleason,  R.  A.,  164  note 

Graebner,  F.,  283,  310,  324 

Guardian  spirits,  Australia,  193; 
Blackfoot,  192;  Eskimo,  193;  Hai- 
da, 187;  Hidatsa,  192;  Iroquois, 
192;  Malay  Archipelago,  193; 
Melanesia,  193;  medicine  bundles, 
191;  Plains,  190;  Plateau,  189; 
Shuswap,  189;  Tlingit,  187;  Win- 
nebago, 192 

Habitations,  bark  house,  earth  lodge, 
gabled  board  house,  snow-house, 
subterranean  house,  tipi,  tree 
house,   135 

Haddon,  A.  C,  23 ;  on  art,  170 

Haeberlln,  H.  K.,  348  note 

Haeckel,  E.,  3 

Haida,  see  Tlingit 

Harpoon,  Eskimo,  43 

Hartland,  E.  S.,  23 

Heape,  W.,   195 

Hewitt,  J.  N.  B.,  198 

Hobson,  J.  A.,  9 

Hopi,  150;  clans,  253  note 

Howitt,  A.  W.,  223 

Hubert,  H.  and  Mauss,  M.,  200 

Hunting,  stage  of,  25 

Huntington,  E.,  293,  337  note 

Hyades,  P.  and  Deniker,  J.,  222 

Ideas,  of  early  man,   327-415 

Incest,   see   exogamy 

Independent  development,  see  diffu- 
sion 

Industry,  and  invention,  157-165; 
and  the  individual,  408;  and 
thought,  405,  406,  407;  as  adjust- 
ment toi  environment,  133 ;  Aus- 
tralian, 100,  101,  102,  103 ;  Ba- 
ganda,  83;  Eskimo,  40-52;  Hopi, 
150;  Iroquois,  70,  72;  knowledge 
in,  154,  155,  156,  157;  Kwakiutl, 
138-149;  Tlingit  and  Haida,  53, 
64-68 

Inferiority,  of  early  races  to  white,  6 


INDEX 


427 


Invention,  157-164;  and  creative- 
ness,  161  note;  and  discovery, 
158;  and  religion,  160;  definition 
of,  158;  dynamic,  159;  early  and 
modern  162;  in  design,  161;  illus- 
trations of  early,  158;  Liberty 
Motor,    162;    see   also   industry 

Iroquois,  70-82;  art,  70;  ceremonies, 
71;  chiefs,  76;  clans,  74;  Con- 
federacy, 73;  economics,  72;  Hand- 
some-Lake doctrine,  230;  mana 
(orenda),  198;  material  culture, 
70;  maternal  family,  73;  matri- 
archate,  80,  81,  82;  matron  of 
family,  77;  phratries,  76;  religious 
societies,  71 ;  totemism,  75 

Jevons,  F.  B.,  23 
Jones,  W.,  198 

Kayak,  42,  135 

Klinger,  M.,  178 

Knowledge,  and  thought,  156;  range 
of  early,  154,  155,  156;  Tewa  bo- 
tanical, 152;  see  also  industry;  in- 
vention 

Kroeber,  A.  L.,  195,  397 

Kurnai,  magicians,  224 

Kwakiutl,  fishing  territories,  59; 
guardian  spirits,  185,  186;  indus- 
try, 138-149;   marriage,  61   note 

Lang,  A.,  23,  199,  214  note,  283 

Language,  ability  of  primitive  man 
for,  10;  and  grammar,  17;  uncon- 
scious categories  in,  380 

Laufer,  B.,  317 

Letourneau,  C,  on  evolution,  24 

Levy-Bruhl,  and  Rivers  on  life  and 
death,  384,  385;  characterization 
of  collective  ideas,  382;  critique 
of  his  theory,  385-389 ;  cycle  of 
life  and  death,  383 ;  early  man  not 
wholly  irrational,  388;  logic  in 
modern  thought,  386;  theories  of 
early  mentality,   381-389 

Lowie,  R.  H.,  268  note,  312  note,  409 

Lyell,  Ch.,  21 

McLennan,  J.  F.,  23 

Magic,  and  Christianity,  194;  and 
desire,  233;  and  dreams,  194;  and 
medicine,  194;  and  pregnancy, 
195;  and  superstition,  196;  Aus- 
tralian, 104;  faith  and  fraud  in, 
108  note;  Frazer  on,  339;  Freud 
on,   390;  modern,   193-197 

Mall,  F.  P.,  on  Negro  brains,  6  note 

Malthus,  Th.  R.,  21 


Mana,  197-201;  Algonquin,  198; 
Durkheim  on,  200;  Goldenweiser 
on,  201  note;  Hubert  and  Mauss 
on,  200 ;  in  West  African  fetich- 
ism,  198;  Iroquoian,  198;  Preuss 
on,  200;  Shotwell  on,  200;  Sioux, 
198 

Mannhardt,  W.,  193 

Maori,  art,  169 

Marett,  R.  R.,  199,  347  note;  on  evo- 
lution, 23  note 

Marot,  H.,  9 

Marriage,  237;  Kwakiutl,  61  note; 
see   also   fxogamy 

Maternal  family,  Iroquois,  73 

Matriarchate,  see  Iroquois 

Medicine-men,  Australia,  106;  Chuk- 
chee,  214-224;  Eskimo,  38;  South 
America,  222,  223 

Mooney,  J.,  226,  229 

Morgan,  L.  H.,  23,  79  note,  341 

Miiller,  M.,  360 

Negro,  brain  of,  6 ;  physical  charac- 
ters, 3 

Parker,  C,  9 

Pastoral  life,  stage  of,  25 

Pechuel-Loesche,  E.,  198 

Plains,  art,  166;  guardian  spirits, 
190 

Political  organization,  see  social  or- 
ganization 

Preuss,  T.  H.,  200,  347  note 

Progress  and  evolution,  26 

Property,  individual   and  communal, 

137 
Psychoanalysis,  218  note 

Race,  brain  size  and  weight,  4; 
br.ain  structure,  5 ;  physical  char- 
acteristics of,  3 

Radin,  P.,  322,  323 ;  on  guardian 
spirits,   185  note 

Raphael,  8.,   i8,  178 

Ratzel,  F.,  293,  310,  324 

Religion,  184-235;  All  Father  belief, 
211,  212,  213,  214;  and  thought, 
410-413;  Bella  Coola,  207-211; 
Chukchee,  202-206;  Frazer  on, 
337-340;  ghost-dance,  224-231; 
Handsome-Lake  doctrine,  230;  re- 
ligious thrill,  233  ;  Smohalla,  225  ; 
supernaturalism,  231;  Wovoka, 
228 ;  see  also  guardian  spirit; 
magic;  mana 

Ritual,  see  ceremonialism 

Rivers,  W.  H.  R.,  283,  311,  324,  337 
note;   on   primitive  psychology,   8 


428 


INDEX 


Schmidt,  W.,  214  note,  283 

Schurtz,  H.,  198 

Sedna,  Eskimo  myth,  35 

Semple,  E.  C,  293 

Sex,  Eskimo  customs,   39 

Shotwell,  J.  T.,  200 

Slaves,  Tlingit  and  Haida,  55 

Sledge,  Eskimo,  46 

Smith,  E.,   311 

Social  organization,  235-291;  Algon- 
kian  hunting  territory,  238  note ; 
and  thought,  414;  Australian,  108; 
birth  and  inheritance  of  privileges 
groups,  268 ;  birth  and  occupation 
groups,  268;  blood  relatives,  239; 
clans  and  gentes  in  relation  to 
blood  revenge,  adoption,  exogamy, 
totemism,  248;  classes,  254;  critic- 
ism of  Wundt  on  Australia,  254; 
derivative  exogamy,  249,  250; 
Dieri  headmen,  271 ;  dual  divi- 
sions or  moieties,  251 ;  family, 
238;  functions,  265;  geographical 
distribution  of  social  forms,  279- 
282;  groups  based  on  riches,  269; 
home,  physical  and  psychological, 
236;  Kamilaroi  headmen,  273;  lo- 
cality, 235;  locality  in  modern  so- 
ciety, 237  note ;  marriage,  237 ; 
maternal  family,  253 ;  pinya 
avenging  parties,  275 ;  political 
forms,  270-279 ;  relatives  and  so- 
cial behavior,  241 ;  societies,  re- 
ligious, military  and  medicinal, 
267 ;  totemism,  283-291 ;  woman, 
259-264;  see  also  exogamy;  mar- 
riage 

Societies,  religious,  190 

Spencer,  H.,  283,  360,  409;  critique 
of  his  ancestor  worship  theory, 
332;  ghost  theory,  333,  334;  his 
method,  22;  misinterpretation  of 
nicknames,  331 ;  on  evolution,  21, 
22,  23,  336  note;  on  primitive 
labor,  9;  his  theories  of  early 
mentality,  330-337 

Spirits,  see  guardian  spirits 

Steinen,  K.  von  den,  223 

Superiority,  white  man's,   7 

Supernaturalism  and  ceremonialism, 
233,  234;  and  mythology,  233,  234; 
as  adjustment  to  environment, 
133;  see  also  religion 


Swanton,  J.  R.,  on  Haida,  63 
Symbolism,  181,  182 

Taboo,  Eskimo,  37;  on  guardian 
spirit,  185 

Teggart,  J.,  324,  337  note,  378  note 

Tewa,  152-157 

Thomas,  N.  W.,  31,  283 

Thorndike,  E.  L.,  26 

Thurnwald,  R.,  283 ;  on  primitive 
psychology,  8 

Tlingit  and  Haida,  53-69;  art,  64; 
clan  legends,  57,  coppers,  60;  ma- 
terial culture  of,  53 ;  position  of 
women,  58;  potlatch,  59;  property 
ideas,  58;  religious  ideas,  62;  so- 
cial classes  of,  55;  social  organi- 
zation, 55 

Totemism,  283-291 ;  African,  308 ; 
and  modern  civilization,  289,  290, 
291;  Baganda,  84,  85,  86,  87;  de- 
finition of,  283 ;  diagram  illustrat- 
ing totemic  complex,  288 ;  Freud's 
theory  of,  392 ;  geographical  dis- 
tribution, 283,  284;  in  Australia, 
109;  Iroquois,  75;  social  substra- 
tum of,  288 ;  totemic  traits,  284, 
285,  286;  widespread  character- 
istics, 287 

Totem  poles,  66 

Turgenev,  I.  S.,  brain  of,  5 

Tylor,  E.  B.,  31,  184,  199,  360 

Westermarck,  E.,  on  evolution,  24 

Wissler,  C,  297,  316 

Woman,  disabilities  of,  259-265;  in 
art,  261;  in  industry,  259,  260; 
Northwest  and  Iroquois,  58  note ; 
prestige  among  Iroquois,  80; 
property  rights,  260;  in  politics, 
264;  in  religion,  262 

Woodworth,  R.  S.,  on  primitive  psy- 
chology, 8 

Wovoka,  228 

Wundt,  W.,  254,  283 ;  accident  in  in- 
vention, 351;  criticism  of,  254; 
his  critique  of  Frazer,  350;  his 
view  on  evolution,  354;  origin  of 
domestication  of  dog,  origin  of  art, 
354.  355.  356;  origin  of  dress  and 
ornament,  357;  theories  of  early 
mentality,  348-359;  religion  and 
imagination,  349 


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